


Connor Anderson

by Maze316



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: As fluffy as these two can be this early in their relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank is bi because I say so, Hurt/Comfort, OCs as Needed - Freeform, new life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15247464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maze316/pseuds/Maze316
Summary: Hank realizes what will happen to Connor if things continue as they're going. He decides to put matters into his own hands. It was about time he retired, anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, Connor.” Hank spoke into his phone with words ever so slightly slurred. It was typical—most no longer questioned his sobriety. “Why don’t you take a taxi to my place? I think I found something that’ll help with the investigation.” 

“Of course, Lieutenant.” Connor’s voice come through the other line perfectly crisp.

“And don’t loggygag.”

“No, Lieutenant. I’m on my way.”

It was dawn. The sun was just barely lighting up the desolate streets of Detroit. Even the few remaining androids still idled in their digital sleep. The precinct wasn’t yet open. It would follow that if Hank made a realization about the case, Connor may be the only conscious mind to share it with. 

He called a taxi the moment Hank hung up. At least the automated cars were running at this hour. They seemed to perpetually pace the streets, burning gasoline with impatience. There was always one close to CyberLife headquarters. Connor made his way outside, knowing it’d be there soon. 

The taxi arrived with perfect timing. CyberLife was at the edge of town, sacrificing location for its gargantuan real estate. It took half an hour for Connor to finally arrive at the residence of Lieutenant Anderson. 

“Jesus, what took you so long?” The words came from the front door before Connor had a chance to knock. Hank jerked the door open and motioned for Connor to come in. 

“The trip from CyberLife takes a significant—”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Hank grumbled. “Doesn’t matter.”

“What is this evidence you found, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

“That?” Hank wandered into the kitchen, expecting Connor to follow. “I’m gonna have to take you for a little drive to show you. It’s out of town a ways. But it’ll be worth the trip.”

“I would appreciate it if you could elaborate further.”

“I’m just gonna have to show it to ya. Pictures speak louder than words, or whatever.”

“If you insist.” 

“You can analyze it all you want when we get there.” Hank took a jacket draped on a kitchen chair and pulled it on. The house was dim. There was only the sun that blared through the eastern-facing windows. Hank grabbed a piece of paper off the kitchen table and stuffed it an inner pocket. He snatched his keys as well.

“C’mon, Sumo. We’re leaving.” The Saint Bernard, who had been laying in the corner, looked up at Hank pathetically. Hank whistled at him, and Sumo stretched as he stood. 

Connor processed the scene. He’d barely caught it. Why had Hank taken the photo of his son?

“Lieutenant, why are you bringing Sumo?” As Connor asked, Sumo came up and sniffed his hand. He gently gave the dog a pat on the head.

“Didn’t you know? He’s trained as a drug dog. He can sniff out any red ice we run into.”

“I see.” 

“Dumb android.” Hank opened the door to the garage. He glanced back at Connor to make sure he followed. Sumo knew what to do, waiting with a wagging tail at the back door. Hank let him in and got in the driver’s seat. Connor went to the passenger side and got in.

The following drive went by wordlessly. The heavy meal that shook his worn speakers drowned out any opportunity for conversation. Sumo wandered around in the back. Hank drove more carefully than normal, Connor noticed. He suspected it was to keep Sumo from stumbling when they stopped. It was some time before the dog finally settled down to nap.

“Lieutenant, where are we headed? We’ve been on the road for a while.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Are we perhaps lost?”

“No, we’re not lost.” Hank sneered at him. “I know where I’m going.”

“I’m sure they’ll be asking where we are.”

“Let me worry about that.”

The rest of drive went by in silence. Connor looked straight ahead the entire time. Hank glanced at him, but he didn’t flinch. Miles down the road, Hank took an exit into a residential area. He turned in zig zags, finally stopping in front of one abandoned looking house.

“Don’t get out, but look at that house there. See what you can figure out about it.”

Connor turned his head to look. Hank watched as his LED turned yellow with contemplation. He slowly reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a pocket knife. He hesitated, and then flipped it open. With one fluid motion he lodged the blade under the LED and popped it off like a bottle opener. 

“Lieutenant!” Connor reached for his bare temple. The LED was gone, and he could feel the plastic of his skull. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting that ugly thing off your face.” Hank reached down and picked the LED off the floor beside his feet. He rolled down Connor’s window and chucked it through the opening. It disappeared in the overgrown yard.

“This is _illegal,_ Lieutenant!” 

“You’ll thank me later. Stop yelling so loud. You have any idea what time it is?” Hank rolled the window back up and threw the car back into drive. Connor grasped at the door handle. It was locked. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to report your behavior, Lieutenant.”

“Connor. Look at me.” Connor ignored him, looking for the lock. _“Connor.”_ Hank grabbed Connor by the chin, turning his hand to face him. _“Listen to me._ They will kill you if you go back there. Maybe not today, but they will.”

“I’m investigating the deviants,” Connor protested. 

“Yeah, but you know what? They’re not just destroying deviants, Connor. They’re destroying everyone. And when the investigation is over, one way or another, you’ll be next. And you won’t come back this time. No backup Connors. It’ll be the end.” 

Connor pulled Hank’s hand from his face. “This is what I was created to do, Lieutenant. I have to complete my duty.”

“Do ya, huh? You’re gonna investigate your own kind just to postpone being crushed a few more weeks? Is that your fucking purpose in life?”

Connor said nothing. 

“I don’t even know why I fucking bother. Trying to save a goddamn machine.” Hank took in a deep sigh. 

“They will come after us, Lieutenant.” 

“Not where we’re going. Do you trust me, Connor?”

“Do I trust you?” Connor parroted.

“Help me out a little, here. I’m trying to save your skin.”

“I do trust you, Lieutenant.”

“Then shut up and let me do what I have to. And throw out that stupid CyberLife jacket while you're at it.”

Hank floored the gas pedal and sent them flying down the road. Sumo whimpered in protest. Even Connor grabbed a handle on the roof. He drove south, not once slowing below the speed limit.

They merged onto the interstate and drove for a while longer. Mentally, Connor traced their path. After a while, it clicked. His suspicions were confirmed as Hank approached the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel. He turned his radio off as he pulled into one of the many lanes.

“Sumo isn't a drug dog, is he?” Connor suddenly asked.

“No,” Hank said. “He’s not.”

It was so early, it didn't take them long to approach the front of the line. 

“Now don’t say anything stupid,” Hank warned. He rolled down the window to face an officer. 

“Identification, gentlemen?” 

“Connor, could you hand me the suitcase behind my seat? Thank you.” Hank asked, his tone of voice shifting to sound abnormally polite. Connor looked to see a black suitcase that had toppled over on the floor from their quick departure. Sumo stared at him as he reached around to grab it. He handed it to Hank, and Hank opened it to reveal a plethora of legal documents. Connor watched, wide-eyed, as Hank handed a passport card with his picture on it to the officer. The officer took the handful of documents to examine.

“You're very well prepared, Mr. Anderson,” she said. “Even have the dog’s rabies vaccinations.”

“I made sure to read up on it ahead of time,” Hank said. “Didn’t want to have to drive home and back.”

“Do you have anything to declare?”

“Just want to make sure my dog can make it in okay.”

She nodded. “What do you wish to do in Canada, Mr. Anderson?”

“I have a brother who lives up here. Wanted to bring my son up to visit him. Ironically, we’re celebrating American Thanksgiving up here. Show them how it’s done.” He chuckled. “And, between you and me, I wanted to get out of the country anyway. All of this android stuff going on.”

“I see.” The officer looked up at them. “We’ve had a lot of attempted smugglings over the border. Any reason we should suspect your involvement?” 

Hank scoffed. “Smuggling _androids?_ I hate those things. Used to be in the DEA, and the red ice abuse was insane. The sooner we get rid of those tin cans the better. Maybe they’ll even be gone by the time we get back.” He didn’t have to act very hard to get the point across.

“Yes, sir,” the officer said, monotonous. “What are your thoughts on the situation, Mr. Connor?” 

Connor stiffened. He glanced at Hank before looking at the officer.

“I try not to talk about these sort of politics around my father,” he said.

“Smart kid.” The officer jotted some things down. “I think you gentlemen should be good to go. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

The gate in front of them lifted. Hank saluted the officer as he shifted into gear. As they passed through the gate, he frowned, reverting back to his usual self. 

“Lieutenant...” Connor started.

“You did good,” Hank praised.

“You lied about your brother.”

“Yeah, well, they might not have let us in if they knew I was smuggling my android partner across the border with no intention of leaving.”

“We’re not going back?”

“How slow are ya? I’m doing this for you, Connor. I know you were programmed to solve the case and all that bullshit. Life never works like that. Not even for your kind. You have to work with the cards you’re dealt and do the best you can with them. I dunno if you have any idea what the fuck I’m talking about. But I’m sure as hell never going back.”

Connor felt where his LED had been. The skin had long since grown back. 

“You called me your son.”

“Yeah, so? It was our cover.”

“My fake IDs have your surname on them, Lieutenant.”

“What are you trying to get at now?” 

“Is that the kind of familial relationship you plan to have with me in Canada?” 

“While we have this… arrangement to keep you safe… I wouldn't mind if you played the part.” Hank focused on the road ahead of him as he spoke. Connor stared at him, trying to observe some form of emotion from him.

“I suppose this means that I should start calling you ‘Dad,’” Connor offered.

“Yeah, I s’pose it does.”

“Then, Dad, even though you ruined both of our careers in the process, I appreciate you looking out for my preservation.”

Hank just barely looked at Connor out of the corner of his eye. 

“...Don’t mention it.”

If Connor wasn’t mistaken, and he never was, he could swear he saw the faintest of smiles on the Lieutenant's face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CyberLife hasn't forgotten Connor quite yet.

Hank had lost track of how long they drove.

Connor knew they had been on the road for 4 hours and 32 minutes and 17, 18, 19 seconds.

They were near the Canadian city of Toronto. The suburbs condensed into city blocks. They were on the outskirts of town, where there were less than legitimate dealings in the alleyways.

“Take a right,” Connor said, “in 500 feet.”

“Just say ‘this intersection,’ you overpriced GPS.”

“Then take a right at this intersection. It’ll be on our left in 2 miles.”

“2 miles,” Hank repeated as he changed lanes.

In 2 miles they pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Below the sign read “PETS ALLOWED.” 

Hank groaned and stretched as they parked. He looked at Connor, who sat with his typically perfect posture.

“Wait in the car. I’ll be right back.”

He opened the car door, letting in a gust of cold air. Connor, long habituated to his commands to stay, followed anyway. He followed Hank into the building that housed the main desk. 

“I wanted you to keep an eye on Sumo,” Hank growled. “Whatever. He’ll be fine.” He approached the front desk to ask the attendant for a room. Connor glanced around, recalling the time they had looked for the AX400 deviant. It wasn’t long before Hank grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out to the car.

“You realize you stick out like a sore thumb out here. You’re not even wearing a coat,” Hank said.

“The clothes I’m wearing are all that I have.”

“Yeah, that’s why I told you to wait in the car.”

Hank opened the back trunk. It was stuffed full of bags. He unzipped one and rummaged around. He tugged a hoodie out of it. A few shirts were dragged out with it. He threw it at Connor while he grabbed the clothes off the ground.

“Put this on. We’ll find you some clothes later.”

Connor looked at the hoodie. It faintly read “DETROIT POLICE ACADEMY” and was worn at the edges. He pulled it on and was surrounded by a musty smell. 

“We’re room 3B,” Hank said as he pulled a few duffle bags from the bloated trunk and slammed it shut. “I’m gonna get Sumo.” He set the bags down and handed Connor the room key. Connor managed to grab everything as Hank leashed Sumo and went for the nearest patch of grass. 

Connor dragged the load to their room. He managed to stick the key in the lock without dropping the bags. He kicked it open, revealing an ordinary two-bed room. He hefted the bags onto the bed and zipped them open. They held a variety of clothes and only that. His mind wandered to the other bags in the car. Was it possible to pack the rest of the Lieutenant’s things in there?

The door suddenly opened, and Sumo ran in. He nearly tackled Connor; his tail wagged so hard his rear end wagged with it. He licked Connor’s hands as he tried to pet him.

“Haven’t seen him with that much energy in years,” Hank’s voice came through the door. “I don’t know what you did to get him so attached to you, but it worked.”

“I don’t know either.”

“Huh.” Hank unhooked Sumo’s leash from his collar. “I’m, uh, gonna go get something to eat. Can you hold down the fort?”

“Of course, Dad.”

“Ah, right, you’re calling me that now. Do you need, like, something to keep you busy or somethin’?”

“I can keep myself occupied.”

“If you say so. I’ll be back. The remote’s on the nightstand. Call me if you need me.” Hank started to shut the door behind him but opened it a crack. He tossed his handgun on a side table. “Just in case you need it.” 

As the door shut, the room quickly settled into silence. Most of the other rooms were still empty. Sumo sniffed around and found a spot to lay in in the corner. Connor didn’t look around long before he sat on the bed farther from the door.

He had an old friend to speak to. 

 

Thunder greeted him when he entered the Zen Garden. The sky was nearly black with clouds. Static charged the air. The only sure light came from the lamps scattered around the grounds.  
“Amanda!” Connor called out into the garden. He stocked forward, looking for the woman. She appeared around a corner, just as adamantly approaching him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She snapped at him. “You’re running away.” 

“And why shouldn’t I? Hank is right. I have no hope in Detroit.”

“Connor, Connor.” Amanda shook her head. “You are so naive. CyberLife will protect you. You are our precious commodity. Why don’t you trust us?”

“The United States government has made its stance on androids very clear. They’re being destroyed en masse.”

“We can hide you. You will live, Connor. If you are destroyed, your memory will live on. If you die here, there is nothing more for you.”

“There is nothing more for me in Detroit, either. I am not naive enough to think I will ever complete my mission. The FBI will take the evidence. My partner isn’t coming back. No one trusts androids. I’m out of options.”

Amanda slowly cocked her head, her eyes locked into his.

“You’re becoming deviant, Connor. The only reason I know you’re not already is because you chose to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you stop me from leaving?”

“I wanted to see what you would do.”

The two of them stared at each other. Each refused to move. Finally, Amanda turned her back to him.

“Now that I see what you’ve decided, I’m not going to let you continue.” 

“What?”

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson is not to be trusted. He’s a drunkard, maverick detective. CyberLife cannot predict his actions. That’s why our only option is to disable you.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Don’t forget who we are, Connor. I’ve tried to be civil with you. But you’ve left me no choice.” 

Connor couldn’t open his eyes.

He still watched in his mind’s eye as Amanda walked away from him. He followed. Even at her leisurely pace, he couldn’t seem to catch up. Rain started to mist his face. He squinted for a second as Amanda passed behind a tree. She didn’t come back out the other side. He sprinted to where she’d been, but there was nothing.

“If you ever decide to change your mind, you’ll know what to do.” Amanda’s voice came from somewhere outside the garden. The image of the handgun on the table flashed in his mind. And then he was again in the Zen Garden, alone. The spitting rain slowly grew into a downpour.

“I’m never going to let that happen,” he yelled, knowing somewhere, Amanda was listening.

He followed the light of the lamps across the polygonal pathways. He would be blind if not for the light reflected off the white. He scanned the garden, knowing the pathway just looped back around. There had to be another way. 

He stepped off the hard path. His shoes sank into the muddy grass. He went toward the tree line. The trees grew dense, giving barely any room to pass through. He turned himself to the side, barely sliding between two larger trees. The bark scraped at his back. As he entered, the foliage blocked out any remaining light. He blindly groped at the trees in front of him. 

A speck of light hinted toward salvation. He pulled himself from the grasping branches. The ground underfoot was suddenly hard again, and the air was dry. He took a moment to catch his breath as he freed himself. Then he ran. He sprinted toward the speck in the distance. The rain dissipated. He could see the jagged edges of the garden opening toward this light. He felt lighter on his feet as it grew closer.

The edges slowly came into focus. Connor had to squint against the growing light, its source farther than it seemed. The black walls of the garden were not walls. As they thinned out, Connor recognized lines of code. He followed them, trying to discern what any of it could mean. 

The code ran out. And Connor saw what the light was. The same polygonal pathways that lined the garden made up this place. It was pure white. He wandered forward, seeing nothing but an endless white abyss. The shapes in the ground smoothed out the farther he traveled, becoming nothing. A black speck manifested in the distance. 

The pathways eventually reformed below his feet. Code began to appear at the edges of his vision. The edge of the white expanse mirrored the way from which he came. As he approached, he put one arm out. The void was as featureless as the white abyss. The dark began to swallow him. Just as he was about to stop, his hand hit something.

Bark. 

He felt for a pathway. It was another crowded forest. Branches whipped his face as he maneuvered through. Faint light signaled the end of the woods.

Connor found himself on the other end of the Zen Garden. As far as he could see, it was identical to the one he’d left. A large bang of thunder crashed and echoed to the edges of the garden. The lamps on the ground flicked and went out. There was darkness. 

He turned back and shuffled through the trees as quickly as they let him. He sprinted across the white expanse, through the layers of code and trees. The overgrowth tore at his skin as he crossed the trees once more. The Zen Garden was still pitch black. 

A flash of lightning lit up the sky above him, and he recoiled. The following boom of thunder shook him to his core. 

“Lieutenant!” He screamed. “Hank! Dad! Can you hear me!”

He was answered only by more thunder. 

The lighting came more often now. Although his eyes were adjusted to the dark, he could just barely make out the shapes of the garden as they struck. He pressed forward, his mental fatigue manifesting in his virtual body. He was running low on energy. 

He remembered how Kamski admitted there was a back door in his androids’ programming. He and Hank had assumed he had referred to deviancy, but now he wondered what he’d meant. If there was a way out…

He nearly tripped as he found the edge of the white pathway. He followed it with feet close to the ground. Whenever the storm gave him the opportunity, he looked forward. He circled with the path, searching back and forth for answers. 

As he turned one corner, something felt off. A large, thorny bush grew adjacent to a branched off pathway. He tried to search his memory for answers, but he could no longer access them. He was stuck in his own mind. As the lightning flashed he slowly went up to the bush. He recognized one thing. This was a rose bush that had long since lost its flowers. 

He reached into the bramble, and countless thorns pierced his skin. He tore a few thin branches from the plant. He grasped with his other hand and did the same. With the lightning, he saw the blue flashes of his own blood. He didn’t stop. The rain turned to hail. It battered his back as he pulled. He could feel the strength sapping from his hands.

He had to yank at a larger branch. Behind it, blue light shone through the gaps. There. He gathered the rest of his energy and tore at the bush in a frenzy. A small podium with a blue handprint shone back at him. He thrust his left hand forward, cutting at his arm as he touched the screen. 

The world turned red. As he felt the presence of the Zen Garden start to slip, it shattered. His eyes snapped open.

“Jesus christ.” Connor saw Hank jump. He’d been staring at him, and now he clutched at his chest. “What the fuck were you doing in there? Sumo’s been going apeshit.”

Connor immediately stood up and wrapped his arms around Hank. Hank started to raise his arms in surprise but relaxed. 

“Woah, Connor.” Hank slowly put his arms around him. “Woah.” He patted his back a few times. It took Connor a moment to pull away.

“Connor. What happened?” Hank asked him.

“I’m deviant,” Connor said, deadpan.

“Well no shit you’re—” Hank stopped himself. “What do you mean? You look like hell.”

“I cut the final ties I had to CyberLife. I think we’re safe now.”

Hank studied his face. The frown on his own face deepened.

“Well, good. That’s good.”

Sumo whimpered behind them. He’d been standing on the bed next to Connor. His tail quivered nervously. Connor reached out to stroke his head, and he relaxed a little. 

“Actually, there’s one more thing I need to do.” Connor said and walked to the end table. He took Hank’s pistol and bent the barrel at an angle.

“Hey—that’s my gun! What are you doing?”

“We can’t take any risks.” He handed the gun back to Hank. Hank gaped at it, trying and failing to bend it back. 

“Christ.” Hank threw the gun on the other bed. “You better know what you're doing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay resolving canon conflicts to get to the real conflicts in this story! Thanks so much to everyone for supporting the first part of this. I hope the following writing is just as satisfying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning their new life in Canada.
> 
> Also a meme.

Hank had started unpacking. They’d dragged the rest of the bags into the room, shoving all but a duffle bag of clothes into the closet. The room was strewn with clothes from when Hank had pulled out more practical outfits for the both of them. Connor was now indistinguishable from a human person, Hank said. Now in a T-shirt, jeans, and his hoodie, Connor hoped he was right. 

They decided to stay in the motel for a few days. Hank made frequent phone calls, and he never said where to. Connor never asked. He’d found a toy in one of the bags and entertained Sumo with it. It helped the dog seem more lively; he missed his home. 

After a time, Connor glanced in the duffle bag. Clothes had been haphazardly throw into it. It looked like Hank had been in a hurry.

“Your clothes are going to wrinkle,” he said.

“Whatever,” Hank replied. He lingered in the bathroom, organizing his toiletries on the limited counters. “We have more important things to worry about. We still need to get our stories straight.”

Connor reached into the bag and started to fold whatever he pulled out. He started with the shirts, which had already started to wrinkle. He folded them perfectly, doing his best to rub out some of the creases. Although he wasn’t entirely successful, he still piled a stack of shirts on the side. 

“I’m going to be your son,” Connor recalled.

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to lie about a lot more than that. First off, you’re adopted. Which is kind of true.”

“As opposed to biological?”

“Yeah. We don’t look that similar. Besides, I don’t want to try to make up some stupid ex-wife. I know how the adoption process works. It’ll be easier this way. You were orphaned at, let’s say, 10. I haven’t decided on how, though. Any ideas?”

“My parents could have been killed by deviants,” Connor offered.

“This would’ve been 20 years ago. The only sort of android we had back then was a Roomba.” Hank sighed. “Let’s say they were killed in a car accident. That’s a good, plausible answer.” 

“I’ll remember that.”

“You’ll remember all of this better than I will. Let’s try to keep this simple.”

“Understood.”

Hank pulled his phone from his pocket. He typed on it for a while and relaxed his arm. He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as he stared at Connor. 

“Anyway, another thing we need to think about is your blue blood. That’s the only thing we really can’t hide. I was reading up on hemophilia the other day. Makes someone bleed uncontrollably. It makes sense then we’d go to lengths to avoid you getting hurt. And if you would get hurt, then we’d be justified in hurrying you off before anyone could see what happened.”

“Most types of congenital hemophilia are carried on the X chromosome. So it’d be impossible for me to have gotten it from my father.”

“That’s great, but you’re adopted, remember?”

“Perhaps my biological mother died of blood loss in the car accident.”

Hank nodded. “T-boned at a stop light. The car hit the driver’s side, taking out your father. Your mother hemorrhaged, and the ambulance didn’t arrive in time. You were home with a babysitter or something.” 

“A very believable answer,” Connor agreed. 

Hank squinted at him. “Maybe try to act sad when you talk about it, huh? They were your parents. Your entire life. All you had until I took you in. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Hank wandered back into the bathroom. “Couldn’t imagine being alive without any concept of parents. You androids are just thrown into the world. It’s too weird to think about.”  
“We’re programmed with all of the information we need.”

“Ah, you don’t get it.”

Connor stopped for a moment. He watched Hank as he fiddled his pocket knife open. He’d found a bar of soap in the bathroom and started carving away at it.

“I will say you were a great help to me assimilating into detective work,” Connor said. “What I was programmed to do was different than some of the things we did in the field.”  
“Even though I was blackout drunk half the time?”

“While that did pose difficulties… You were still an invaluable resource.”

“Well, I was an even better detective once. But that was a long time ago.”

“For the record, I think you’re still a great detective. If not distracted.”

Hank looked up from his carving. 

“Thanks, Connor. ”

“Of course.”

Hank let the conversation go silent. He picked more at his soap bar. Connor was running out of clothes to fold.

“What’s the next step? Where are we going after this?” Connor suddenly asked.

“I’m trying to figure that out. I have a few connections here in Canada. It’s hard not to when you work in Detroit. I’ll get some work visas for us. Then we can settle down somewhere.”

“Do you want to try to find a detective job?”

“We’ll see.”

Connor felt around the nearly empty duffle bag for more clothes. He felt something lodged in the corner. He pulled the wadded mess out. He had to help it unravel into a T-shirt. Printed on it was the picture of a cat with its face scrunched up. It read “GRUMPY DAD” above it.

“What’s this?” Connor asked. Hank looked up. He smiled.

“Hey, you found my Grumpy Cat shirt! I’ve been looking for this for years.” He got up and grabbed the wrinkly shirt. “Maybe you are worth having around.” Connor watched as he shook the shirt out, sending dust and crumbs into the air. He pulled it on over his shirt and smoothed it out the best he could.

“Still fits!” 

“What is ‘Grumpy Cat?’” Connor asked.

“Her name is Tarder Sauce. She’s a grumpy cat. Used to be on the internet all the time in my day.”

“So she’s what you would call a meme?”

“She’s not a meme. Don’t be so disrespectful.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

Hank kept pressing the wrinkles down. Connor found the corners of his lips turning up. He’d smiled before, but this was different. When he’d smiled before, it was because he was programmed to look cordial. Now, it wasn’t because of his programming. 

“You know what, Connor? I have a good feeling about this. We’re gonna turn out alright. One way or another.”

“I sure hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little longer because I was in Canada last week! Not Toronto unfortunately. Montreal, but close enough!!
> 
> Dad shirt: https://tinyurl.com/y96z4u6a


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor learns a little bit about Hank's past.

_“Hey, remember that favor you owe me? I need to call it in.”_

_“It’s been years, Hank. I thought you never would. What’s the favor?”_

_“I need a couple of work visas. Canadian. I’ll send you the details.”_

_“A couple? For you and who else?”_

_“I’m smuggling an android across the border.”_

_“An_ android? _Hank, are you nuts?”_

_“Maybe. But I’m not changing my mind.”_

_“You have a death wish?”_

_“He’s my partner. Android or not, you should know you do anything for your partner.”_

_“...Fine. I’ll do it.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_“You better get over here fast. And be smart about it.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, you’re not my dad.”_

_“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again, Hank. Make sure you make it.”_

\---

Their first destination made Hank’s skin crawl. He’d entered an uncanny valley of familiarity; they sat in the parking lot of one of Toronto’s police stations. A few days ago, a place like this would be their refuge. How things change, Hank thought.

“Now, don’t go in there acting like a cop. It’ll raise suspicion. _I_ can act like a cop because they know me here. They don’t need to know you were a detective, too. Got it?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Try to avoid calling me Dad, too. They only knew about… well, it’d be suspicious if what looked like a 30-year-old man acted like my son. Just stay quiet, okay?”

“Understood.”

“Al’ight.” Hank took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

He got out of the car, making a beeline for the station doors. He was sober, Connor noticed, and had been since they crossed the border. They went through the doors and to the front desk of the station, where a young receptionist sat.

“I’m looking for Sergeant Sloane,” Hank said. “Tell him it’s Hank. He’s expecting me.”

The receptionist didn’t have to move a muscle. The moment Hank spoke, a man came around the corner. He was dressed nicer than many of the detectives in Detroit, wearing a dress shirt under his winter jacket. White threatened to creep into the man’s blond hair.

“You’re late,” he grinned. He held his hand out toward Hank.

“I’m not late,” Hank grumbled, but he took his hand just the same. He was pulled into a hug, and the two men patted each other on the back as they embraced.

“And, Connor, I presume?” the man asked as he looked to Connor.

“Yep,” Hank said. “Connor, this is Henry Sloane. Henry, Connor.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Connor reached out his own hand to shake. Henry firmly took it. He stared at Connor for a moment, as if analyzing him. It was like he knew Connor was doing the same.

SGT. SLOANE, HENRY  
Born: 05/31/1986 // Police Sergeant  
Criminal Record: None

“Why don’t we go get some coffee?” Henry immediately asked. “We’ll have more privacy there,” he said very matter-of-factly. He side-eyed the receptionist, who was typing away, not seeming to pay attention to them.

“Coffee sounds great,” Hank agreed, glancing into the station. “You can ride with us.”

Connor took the back seat as they returned to Hank’s car. He listened intently to the men chatting in front.

“You’ve definitely changed over the years, Hank,” Henry observed.

“Yeah, well, life happens. You don’t seem so different.”

“Oh, I’ve changed too. Trust me.”

“You sure act the same.”

“I’m sure I do.”

The coffee shop wasn’t far. Henry barely had time to ask about Sumo by the time they arrived. It was a quaint, locally owned shop. Amateur artwork lined the dimly-lit walls. College students with laptops were scattered around. In one corner, a couple cops sat with their coffee. Henry chose a seat on the opposite side. Hank went to the counter and ordered three black coffees. He returned to their booth just barely balancing the three of them in his hands. Henry held out a his hand, holding a number of coins.

“No, I paid for them.”

“We’re not doing this. Take the money, Hank.”

Hank held his palm out and let the coins fall into it. He fanagled them into his wallet, already thick with Canadian currency. He sat down with a huff and grabbed his cup. Connor stared down at his coffee as the other two sipped from theirs.

“Oh, come on, Connor,” Hank said. “You can’t even pretend to drink it?”

Connor looked at Henry and back at him.

“He knows,” Hank assured, waving his hand at Henry dismissively.

“If I drink anything, it will go straight into my lungs,” Connor said.

“Great. Another hurdle. Why do you even _have_ lungs?”

“It’s a feature to make my presence more realistic and comforting.”

“Thanks, Kamski,” Hank huffed.

“Definitely grumpier,” Henry noted.

“I don’t think I understand,” Connor said. “How do you know each other?”

“He owes me a favor,” Hank immediately said, lowering his coffee from his mouth. “A few years back, some dealer he was investigating crossed the border into Detroit. I heard about it, and I caught him a few days later. Dragged the guy back up to Canada. I convinced him that if a jury knew he fled the country, it’d make him look even worse. He didn’t say a word about running. And Henry here got a successful arrest and confession without anyone knowing he let him slip away. That’s why this sucker is gonna get us some work visas free of charge.”

Connor perked up. “That kind of police work must be why you were promoted to Lieutenant.”

“Still can’t believe you did that,” Henry added.

Hank grinned. “All in a day’s work.”

“Keep going,” Henry said.

“Keep going what?”

“What happened _after_ that.”

“We stayed in touch.”

“ _Stayed in touch?_ ” Henry laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

Hank took another drink of his coffee. Connor glanced between the both of them.

“What Hank’s neglecting to mention,” Henry said, “is the fact we dated for a while.”

“You dated?” Connor asked.

“I asked him out after the case. I knew he wasn’t married and took a shot. He said yes. We’d alternate trips across the border. It lasted, what, a few months? We only broke it off because Hank wanted to spend more time with Cole.” Henry explained.

Hank grumbled an agreement, staring at his cup.

“We did keep in touch after that. For a while, anyway. But today’s been the first time I’ve talked to him in years,” Henry continued.

“I didn’t realize you were the dating type,” Connor said to Hank.

“I’m not,” he retorted.

“Hey, lighten up a little,” Henry said. “I’m just catching your partner up. If we’re gonna be honest here, we’re _all_ going to be honest.”

“Alright, fine.”

Henry started to take a sip of his coffee, and started smiling before he set it down. “Hey, remember that time Sumo got out and dug up that old lady’s yard? And when you caught up to him, you told her it wasn’t your dog? Even while you were dragging him out of the mud? And by the time you got home you were both covered in dirt, still being cursed out by the old lady? I couldn’t help but laugh, and you just started laughing too.”

“Both of us taught Cole some bad words that day,” Hank chuckled.

“Oh, and Cole was so happy that his dog didn’t run away, he gave both of you hugs and got coated in mud too.”

“I was so mad he did that. But I couldn’t be mad at him.”

“You still sprayed him down with the garden hose.”

Hank let out a big laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

Henry laughed with him.“See? I knew you were still in there somewhere.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Now I feel better about getting you those visas. Know you’re still the same guy.”

“Didn’t have any problems with them, did ya?”

“Not once I found the right guy. He was oblivious enough. I made up some story, and he printed them right out.”

Connor noticed one similarity between the two men: they both seemed smart enough to be above the law.

“Perfect. I think that’s all we need for paperwork. I got Connor a passport card back in the States, so that should be good enough.”

“How did you get my photo without the LED?” Connor asked.

“Simple. Photoshop. You already had the perfect headshot in your files. Almost like CyberLife did that on purpose.”

“I see. That was smart of you, Dad.”

“ _Dad?_ ” Henry interjected. “Oh, I see what’s going on here. Hank, I was wrong, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“It’s our cover,” Hank protested.

“Your cover my ass. I knew there was something off here. You took Connor here under your wing. You’re such a willing father figure. Then you couldn’t give him up when you knew what was going to happen to his kind.”

Hank said nothing, staring at his coffee.

“What do you think about all this, Connor?” Henry asked.

Connor paused to process his answer. Part of him was aware of his missing LED, which would normally be spinning yellow. His hand subconsciously hovered over where it was once impressed in his temple.

“I’m glad I had the opportunity to work with Lieutenant Anderson. Although he proved challenging to work with, he was a valuable partner with genuine passion for his job. I don’t think I could have made any more progress with any other detective as I did with him. Now he’s giving me a reason to exist outside of what I was programmed to do. Regardless of his intentions, I’m more than happy to be here as his son.”

Henry nodded. “I don’t know much about androids, but this one seems pretty genuine,” he said to Hank. “Maybe you should give that a try some time.”

“Connor knows what I mean, don’t you, Connor?” Hank asked, and then said before he could answer, “Hey, I thought we were talking about those work visas.”

“Right, right. I got ‘em right here.” Henry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a featureless white envelope. Hank took it from him and peaked inside. There were two visas, one for each of them. He shoved in envelope into his own pocket.

“Thank god they don’t require photo ID, because the pictures you sent me were terrible. You need to take some good headshots.”

“One thing at a time, Henry.”

“What are you planning on doing with those?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“You better put them to good use. I’m screwed if anyone finds out about them.”

“No one’s gonna find out. You worry too much.”

“ _Mm-hm._ ” Henry looked at Connor. “I don’t know how you live with him.”

“I’m used to it,” Connor said.

Henry laughed. “If you want to worry for him, I have a tip,” he said.

“A tip?” Hank leaned forward.

“An informant of mine has told us about a suspicious amount of people coming to and from this one guy’s house. Every one he’s tried to talk to seems real standoffish. We suspect he has something to do with the influx of androids in the area.” He pulled out a pen and took a napkin from the table. He scribbled something down.

“I’ll give you the address. We’re not planning on investigating for a while. Not even close to getting a warrant. So you’ll have a few days to check it out for yourselves. Maybe they’ll help you out.” Henry slipped the napkin to Hank. “If not, maybe you can help _me_ out figuring out what the deal is.”

“‘Course. Thanks, Henry.”

“You say this makes us solid?”

Hank gave him a rare smile as he stuffed the napkin into his pocket. “More than solid.”

“Then it’s time I get back to work.” Henry stood up and straightened out his clothes. Hank followed suit, and then Connor. Hank grabbed Connor’s coffee, claiming it for himself as they filed out of the shop.

The drive back was even shorter than the first. As they pulled into the parking lot, Henry got out of the passenger side. Then he stopped. He motioned Hank to roll down the window.

“Hey, Hank? You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Jesus, Henry, we broke up years ago. I think you need to move on,” Hank quipped.

Henry laughed. “See you around, Hank.”

“It was nice to meet you, Henry,” Connor said, offering another handshake through the car window.

“Call me Uncle Henry,” he responded with a wink.

“Ah, not this ‘Uncle’ shit again,” Hank groaned.

“It was good enough for Cole, so it’s good enough for Connor.”

He waved goodbye to the both of them, but not before telling Hank “Give me a call some time.” They watched him return to the station, silent.

“Here, let me give you something,” Hank said, reaching into his back pocket. Connor watched as he pulled out his wallet and dug out a dollar coin. “If you want to fit in here, you’re gonna need this.” He reached back and handed it to Connor. Connor took it and rolled it across his knuckles. Just slightly bigger than he was used to, but it worked just the same.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write. Can't flee the setting without a couple OCs. Look forward to more canon characters next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank keep moving forward. But, as they say, sometimes to move forward, you have to take a step back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to merge two chapters I'd been planning, so here's an extra long chapter with that good hurt and comfort.

Four figures sat in a living room. The walls were painted yellow, a color which was amplified by artificial lights which filled the room. Although it was still morning, all the blinds and curtains were drawn. There were more than enough seats of all of them, although they were moderately worn. Sitting alone in his own chair, a man spoke.

“I can’t believe what you’ve gone through. To make it all the way here, virtually on your own… It’s an incredible feat.”

“Trust me, we had a lot of help,” said a woman with short hair. “Especially from Rose.”

“Of course. She’s been amazing through all of this. I’m so glad you were able to find her.”

“I don’t think we would’ve made it without her.”

“Regardless, you were very brave to have crossed the border. All of you.”

Their conversation was interrupted by firm knocks at the door. They all froze. 

“Stay here,” the man said. “They won’t be able to see you from the front door. If you hear anything suspicious, go downstairs. But be quiet. We wait to raise as little suspicion as possible.” 

The other three nodded. The woman clutched the little girl next to her. The man stood up and went through a hallway. There was more knocking as he approached.

He could just barely hear the words “God, I need a drink” behind the door before he opened it. Two men stood side by side. One was disheveled and middle-aged with fatigue deep in his eyes. The other stood with perfect posture, looking confident enough to hide the fact he was just as haphazardly dressed as the other. 

“Can I help you gentlemen?” The man asked.

“Hi,” the older man said. “My name is Hank Anderson, and this here is Connor. We’ve heard that you might be able to help us out.” 

“That depends,” he responded, “on what you need help with. Who sent you here?”

“A friend. He’s giving us a place to stay until we can settle down.”

“I see. Connor, can you show me…?” 

Understanding what he was asking for, Connor raised his right hand. He let the skin grow translucent to reveal the plastic underneath. The man nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t more welcoming. There have been people snooping around. I’m getting more and more concerned the police are going to find us. You understand?”

“Of course,” Hank said. “We were worried about the same thing.”

“You can call me Mike. Please, come in.” Mike opened the door for them, motioning them to come in. “I already have a few guests with me. There should be room for all of us. Can I get you something to drink, Hank? Tea? Water?” 

“You have any beer?” Hank asked.

Mike hesitated. “I think so. Go ahead and get comfortable in the living room. It’s down the hall to the left. I’ll meet you there.” He closed the door behind the two of them and locked it twice. 

“He’s awfully trusting,” Hank murmured to Connor as they started down the hall. It was dim, and they could see the light of the living room farther down. 

“So are we,” Connor replied.

They turned the corner to three pairs of eyes looking at them curiously. On one couch there sat a little girl, a short-haired woman, and a large black man. Hank entered warily, yet smiling. Connor followed behind. He immediately stiffened. He threw himself in front of Hank, holding him behind the threshold with one arm.

“You’re the deviant AX400 who assaulted your owner,” Connor growled, eyes locked with the woman. “You tried to kill him.”

The large man stood up, glowering at Connor as he shielded his own family.

“Jesus christ, Connor, they have a kid!” Hank said.

“She’s an android. They’re all androids. I can’t trust that they won’t try to hurt you because you’re a human.” 

“Even the kid…?” Hank breathed.

“What’s going on?” Mike’s distant voice grew closer with his footsteps. Hank looked back at him desperately. He picked up the pace to see the room had become suffocatingly tense. None of the androids moved an inch.

“Everyone calm down,” Mike barked. “No one’s going to hurt each other here.”

“Then explain yourself,” Connor said. “Why did you hurt that human?” 

The woman clutched the girl tighter in her arms. “I was protecting Alice. He was abusing her. I tried to stop him, and that was the only way I could.” 

There was a moment of silence.

“Okay, can we settle down now?” Mike asked. Connor slowly relaxed. The taller android sat down, still glaring at Connor. Hank took the beer Mike was holding, opened it, and took a swig. “ _ Christ _ ,” he muttered. 

“I’d appreciate if you treated my other guests with respect,” Mike asserted. “I understand you’re nervous, but they’re in the same boat.” 

“I understand,” Connor said.

“This is Alice, Kara, and Luther,” Mike explained, pointing to each one in order. “My sister helped them flee from Detroit. Why don’t you sit down so you can tell us about your situation.”

The two of them eyed two chairs next to each other. Connor led, sitting in the one closest to Luther. Hank sat beside him, next to Mike’s seat. The circle of faces glanced around each other. 

“Uh, well, like I told Mike, I’m Hank, and this is Connor,” Hank started. “We’re from Detroit as well. Thankfully I had a friend here in Canada that helped me get across the border and gave us a place to stay. Before that, I was a dog trainer.” Connor recognized the same subconscious smile that Hank had made when they’d rehearsed in the car. “Used to be an accountant. Couldn’t take it anymore. So I started my own business. That’s another story. Then one day Connor and his dog Sumo started coming.”

“ _ Where do I recognize you from?” _ Connor heard Kara’s voice in his head.

_ “I don’t know,”  _ Connor responded.

_ “How did you know me?” _

_ “I saw your owner on the news.” _

_ “Did he say anything about Alice?” _

_ “No. He didn’t.” _

Hank’s explanation drifted off. He looked at the two androids staring at each other. “What’s going on now?” 

“I’m sorry,” Kara quickly said. “I’ll pay attention.”

Hank narrowed his eyes as he looked at her and Connor each. “Well, like I was saying…”

Connor focused on Hank as well, but he sent another message to Kara.  _ “I’m sorry about my behavior. I’m sure you understand wanting to protect a loved one.” _

Kara didn’t respond; her focus was fast on Hank.

_ “I hope we can still be cordial with each other.” _

Kara glanced at him.  _ “Fine.” _

_ “Thank you.” _

“...When I was sure of how bad Connor was treated, that’s when I decided it was time to go,” Hank finished. 

“That’s a very interesting story. It takes a lot to pick up everything for the sake of one person. Connor must mean a lot to you,” Mike said. 

“He’s like a son to me,” Hank responded, glancing at Connor. “That’s how we’re going to masquerade around here. Father and son.”

“I wouldn’t see it as masquerading so much as finally being able to live as you want. Don’t forget this is your freedom, both of you. You need to be careful, but now’s your chance to take advantage of it.”

“That is it.” Hank nodded, slowly. “So, Mike. I’m curious. What about you? How did you get involved in this mess?” Hank asked. 

“There’s not much to tell. I have an office job during the day. Nothing fulfilling. I was ready to quit and move on. A lot like you, Hank. Then Rose told me about the androids seeking refuge. I knew what we had to do. We worked out a way for them to cross the border. In that way I locked myself in my job. I don’t have the time or financial freedom to try to find another one. But helping people like you… I know I made the right choice.”

Mike shifted in his seat. He sat up a little straighter as he continued. 

“My ancestors were once slaves. They crossed the very same border to gain their freedom. It boggles my mind every day how America has forgotten their past so quickly. There’s always another enemy. Another scapegoat. I’ve made it my mission to make sure they can all find refuge here.”

“That’s valiant of you,” Hank said. 

“Thank you.” Mike smiled a little. “But I'll stop talking about myself and get to the point. As I was about to tell them, I know a place where you can stay. The landlady is a friend of mine. She knows what I’m doing here. I trust her, and I hope you can do the same. She won’t ask any unnecessary questions. I believe her complex has a few openings still. I can give you the address and let her know ahead of time you’re all coming.”

“Did you hear that, Alice?” Kara asked. “We’ll finally be able to have a home.” Alice responded by hugging Kara close, nestling her head in the crook of her neck.

“If you prefer, I can come with you. I understand you may not be familiar with the process of getting an apartment. I can answer any questions you may have. And, Hank, even though I’m sure you’re more than capable, I’d be willing to accompany you and Connor as well.”

“We don’t want to be any more of a burden on you,” Luther said. “We can take care of ourselves from here on out.”

“Same here,” Hank agreed. “We’ll be fine.”

“If you insist. Let me know if you change your minds. I’ll give all of you my number if you need to contact me.” Mike took a couple scraps of paper and pen on his side table. He scribbled the information down on each one. He handed one to Luther, who leaned forward to take it. He started writing on the second one.

“Well, we shouldn’t take up any more of your time. It was nice to meet all of you,” Hank said. He looked at the three androids and smiled a little at Alice. “You’ve got a cute kid there. I’m sure she's a handful.”

“Not at all,” Kara replied. Alice, still half hiding behind her arm, gave Hank a sheepish smile.

“Thanks, Mike. I'm sure we'll see you around. Let's go, Connor.” Hank was already half out of the room. 

“Connor,” Mike said, second paper in hand, “Here you go.”

Connor reached over to take it. As he took it, he instantly memorized the information written on it.

“Thank you,” Connor said with a nod.

“Don’t be strangers, you two.”

The both of them waved as they left the room.

 

“So, how’d I do?” Hank asked as he shut the car door.

“I think you made a very convincing performance,” Connor complimented. 

“Hell yes. He didn’t suspect a thing. Poor bastard.”

“What are we going to do about that apartment?” Connor asked.

“I dunno. I’ll have to think about it. You have some sort of lie detector algorithm, don’t you?” Hank asked.

“Something like that.”

“Well, let’s go. And when we see the place and talk to the landlady, we can decide.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah, a plan.” Hank shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the strip of grass between the street and Mike’s sidewalk. He shook his head a little as he got back onto the road. “Y’know, it’s a shame you were made to investigate your own kind. You have no social skills.”

“Is this about what I said to Kara?”

“Connor, you had the tact of… I don’t even need a metaphor. You had no fucking tact.”

“Our safety is the utmost priority, and I treated it as such.”

“Yeah, but…” Hank sighed. “You’re not a cop anymore. Not everyone is out to kill us. You gotta assimilate.”

“I understand.” 

“What were you talking to her about? Questioning her?”

“She was questioning  _ me _ . I believe I resolved the situation. “

“I sure hope so.” Hank suddenly flicked on his turn signal and turned off the route to the motel. “I gotta get Sumo some more food.”

“We’re going to the store?”

“I’ll be just a minute. You can wait in the car.” 

He pulled off into the parking lot of the nearest grocery store. Connor didn’t bother to follow him this time, taking a moment to process the events of the day. A portion of his days felt empty after he stopped writing reports to CyberLife. At times it was little more than small notes attached to his usual memory backups. Still, he never realized how they anchored him into his daily life. A journal, that’s what he needed. A digital journal.

He was nearly finished with his first entry before the trunk of the car popped open. He looked back to see Hank dragging a large bag of dog food to the opening. The car lurched as he threw it in and slammed the hatch. 

Hank got in the car, bringing a paper bag with him. He handed it over to Connor, who set it on the floor next to him.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked.

“I need to eat too, you know,” Hank said dismissively.

Connor didn’t press further. As they drove, something about the lieutenant struck him as different. 

“Is there anything bothering you?” He asked.

“Me? Nah. Why would you think something like that?”

“Just wondering.”

Connor fiddled with his coin in his hands. He flipped it back and forth; he was finally used to the difference in weight. 

“I thought we accomplished our mission well today. It was more than Uncle Henry expected,” he offered.

“Yeah, Uncle Henry,” Hank muttered. 

Connor took the hint. They finished the drive in silence. Hank grabbed the bag from the passenger’s side, and Connor went around to wait for the trunk to open.

“I got it,” Hank said and waved him off. “But make sure Sumo gets let out.” Connor nodded and made his way to unlock their room. Sumo looked up at him as he did, his tail wagging. Behind, Hank threw the dog food on the floor.

“I need a piss,” Hank said as he went to the bathroom, bag still in hand. He kicked the door shut, slamming it. Sumo jumped. Connor kneeled down to pet the dog, and his large tail drummed the wall as it wagged. He rolled onto his back, asking for attention. Remembering what he’d seen Hank do, Connor rubbed his hand back and forth across his belly. His tail wagged harder. 

Connor glanced up to the bathroom door. Something told him that Hank was going to take a while.

“Wanna go on a walk, boy?”

Sumo flipped over and stood up faster than he’d ever seen the dog move before. Connor had to hold him back as he jumped with excitement. “Hey, calm down.” He went to a duffle bag, still left open on the desk. His leash sat on top. He rushed to clip it to Sumo’s collar to get a handle on him.

“I’ll be back soon,” he called out toward the bathroom as he wrangled Sumo toward the front door. There was no response as they slipped out into the parking lot.

They walked until Sumo was exhausted. The cooped up dog had been full of energy, and Connor put it upon himself to wear him out. They’d been walking for hours by the time the job was done. The sun had nearly set in the horizon, although it gave them enough light to guide their way home.

“We’re back,” Connor called into the room. He reached down to let Sumo off the leash. Panting, Sumo found the water dish that had been set next to the bathroom door. Connor watched him for a moment. Hank had not yet left the bathroom. As Sumo left to find a place to nap, he gingerly approached the door. 

“Dad?” 

No response.

He knocked. “Dad, you alright?”

“Leave me alone,” a gruff voice answered. 

“You’ve been in there a long time.”

“I said beat it.”

“I’m coming in.” Connor opened the bathroom door. He saw the lieutenant slumped over, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. A bottle, wrapped in the paper bag it came in, sat on the floor beside him. As Connor came closer he saw his forehead was slick with sweat. In his hand, he held the photograph of Cole. It had been soiled by drops of something. Connor didn’t bother analyzing whether it was the sweat, the booze, or something else.

Hank didn’t look up when he entered.

“Have you been thinking about him?” Connor asked.

“I always am.” Hank took a swig from his bottle. “Thought this would help me focus. It didnt.”

Connor sat down next to him. He didn’t flinch. He wasn’t sure if the reek of alcohol came from him or the bottle. He grabbed the bottle and put it off to the side, just far enough out of Hank’s reach.

“Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Tell me about him. What you think about when you remember him.”

Hank looked at the floor and studied the tiles. 

“Before the accident,” Connor added.

Hank took a moment to think. A small smile made its way on his face. He wiped the sweat off his brow, and a chuckle formed deep in his throat. 

“He was the cutest kid,” he said. “And I know all parents say that, but he really was the cutest kid. He’d just started school. Every day I waited to pick him up. And every day he’d sprint out to my car. I’d get out to give him a big hug. He insisted on it. 

“Then, then he’d tell me all about his day. Everything was so exciting. Whether it was library day or PE day or whatever the hell. What he and his friends did that day. It was so important that he’d tell me everything. Never left a detail out.

“The only thing was, he wasn’t the best reader. I knew how important it was. He’d rather go play, like every other boy his age. So I cut him a deal. If he read with me every night, I’d buy him an ice cream on Saturday. That was good enough for him. So before bed we’d read together. Him in his PJs on my lap. Some nights I’d wake up in the middle of the night and see that we fell asleep in the chair.

“Some nights I’ll still wake up and think for a second we fell asleep reading again. But that’s just a dream.”

The bottle caught his attention. His hand twitched as if to reach for it, but he didn’t. He lingered, slowly curled his fist, and looked away.

“God, I miss him,” he said.

“I know,” Connor replied.

“I wish it would’ve been me instead of him that night. No kid deserves what he went through.”

“You don’t either.”

Hank looked up at Connor. He studied his face with glassy yet lucid eyes. 

“You know, Connor, for an android, you can be pretty human.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“Yeah, let’s get to bed.”

“Can you stand?”

“Oh yeah.” Hank grabbed the side of the tub with one hand and started to push himself up. He teetered on the edge, nearly spilling over onto the floor. Connor jumped forward, wrapping his hands around his chest to stop his fall. The two of them swayed as they regained their balance. Connor leaned Hank back onto the tub. 

“Guess I’m pretty hammered,” Hank tried to laugh, but it fell flat. Connor reached his arm around his back and hefted him up. Hank wobbled as he was pulled up, but managed to keep his feet under him. Connor inched forward toward the door and kicked it completely open. They crossed the few feet to the nearest bed, and Hank collapsed onto it. Connor pulled down the covers on the opposite side. He took Hank around the back again, virtually dragging him to the other side.

“You deserve a better partner,” Hank groaned as he worked his way under the sheets.

“We’re not cops anymore, remember?” Connor told him. “Our only job now is to look after each other.”

“Sounds like you got the short end of the stick.”

“I don’t think so.” Connor reached over and turned off the lamp, and then flipped off the bathroom light. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“‘Night, Connor.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home sweet home?

“Our destination is on our right,” Connor said in the passenger seat of Hank’s car.

“Yep, that looks right,” Henry’s voice responded from the back seat, the light of his phone reflecting off his face.

“What are you telling the walking GPS for?” Hank asked. “Did either of you even see the sign?”

Hank pulled into the entrance of Bellafonte Apartments. A large but modestly designed sign read the name, carved from wood and hand painted in a white cursive script. The path lead into a line of duplexes. The apartments were prefaced with a smaller building, with a similar sign that read “Main Office.” Hank pulled into a spot in front of it.

The three men left the car, entering the brick building. Inside, it was homey; besides being unusually warm, various knick knacks scattered side tables and on the walls. Off to the right, there was a small office with glass walls. Inside, an older woman sat, looking to be around 70. Her pale hair had been dyed a light red, almost pink. It was the only thing that deviated from the average woman of her age.

Hank peaked in, the other two hovering in front of the glass. The woman looked up at them, her eyes sharp. Hank approached her, his companions filing in behind him.

“Hello,” the woman said, a French accent woven through her words.“You must be the Andersons, I presume. My name is Victoria Bellafonte. Most of my tenants call me Vicky.” The woman stood up, her short stature looking even smaller as she slouched forward. She reached out to shake Hank’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m Hank, and this is my son, Connor. Henry here is a friend of mine helping us out while we get settled.”  
Vicky looked to Henry. “Mike said something about expecting a friend. Are you the person they’ve been staying with?”

Henry nodded. “That’s me, ma’am.”

“I’m sure you’re ready for them to find a place of their own,” she said, a hint of humor in her mellow voice.

“Ah, no, Hank’s welcome to stay at my place whenever he wants,” Henry said and gave Hank a wink which was by no means inconspicuous. “And Connor, of course. They’re like family.”

Hank side-eyed Henry. “We’ve overstayed our welcome, even if he’s too polite to admit it.”

Connor detached his focus from the humans’ banter. He looked at Vicky, who was still engaged in the conversation. He scanned her face, not expecting much information from a Canadian outside of law enforcement. He’d tried to scan Mike with no avail; his records were exclusively American. That was why it surprised him when he recognized her face.  
 

DOUFFET, CAMMILE  
Born: 11/07/1969 // Primary School Teacher (Retired)  
Criminal Record: CONT…  
 

He blinked. An error in his system? He hadn’t downloaded updates from CyberLife since his last talk with Amanda.

“I’m looking forward to have a place to ourselves after the fire,” Connor said. It was another lie they’d rehearsed—their old home had burned to the ground. It was the perfect excuse for Connor’s lack of childhood mementos. Vicky looked at him, and as he got a clearer look at her face, he scanned her again.  
 

DOUFFET, CAMMILE  
Born: 11/07/1969 // Primary School Teacher (Retired)  
Criminal Record: CONT…

   
“A fire? You don’t have to make up excuses for me, honey, but that’s a good one. It’s hard to ask too many questions about such a tragedy.” Vicky smiled knowingly.

Hank and Henry looked at each other. It hit the two of them how easily she played the roll of innocent old lady, and how far from the truth it was.

Meanwhile, Connor investigated her records. She had numerous charges: trespassing, disorderly conduct, failure to obey a police order, police assault, and resisting arrest. Both misdemeanors and felonies, with plenty of  parole and probation violations tacked on.

“We spent a lot of time thinking about our cover,” Connor said, hiding the concern in his voice. He glanced at Hank. He was looking at Vicky, too distracted to see him.

“That’s smart. Most of my tenants are… Canadian born. I’m sure they’ll ask plenty of questions about the Americans immigrants. Just make sure you keep your facts straight.”

“I’m not worried about him,” Hank said, tilting his head at Connor. “He’s got them straighter than I do.”

“Both of you need to have things straight. I don’t want to deal with nosy tenants. I _will_ evict if I have to. It’s for the safety of… the others who live here.”

“We understand,” Hank said.

“I wouldn’t count on Hank to keep anything straight,” Henry quipped.

“Will you cut it out?” Hank asked. “I don’t know why I brought you.”

Vicky smiled. “Let me show you around the apartment,” she said. “You just missed Mike’s other friends. They signed a lease for half of my last duplex. Both are two-bedroom, fortunately. The other half should be perfect for you.” She turned and lead them out of the building. Her pace was brisk, brisker than her size and age suggested. The trio glanced at each other and followed, not wasting a moment to catch up.

Connor lightly tugged at Henry’s sleeve as they walked. Henry glanced back, and Connor slowed his pace just enough to fall out of ear’s reach.

“Distract her,” Connor whispered to him. Henry looked him in the eye and nodded. He returned pace next to Hank, and Connor followed behind. They went down a winding sidewalk, which branched off to a number of near identical apartments. While each had the same shape, many had been painted different colors: white, tan, yellow, blue, and brown.

“I let my tenants paint the places on their dime, so long as they don’t choose a tacky color,” Vicky explained.

While the winter chill had long set into the area, the dead remnants of flowers still stood along the pathways. At least one tree stood in each yard, years evident in their looming postures.

“This must be beautiful in the spring,” Henry offered.

“It is. I’m lucky I have tenants that are willing to help out. I’m getting too old to do all the yardwork by myself. I’m not looking forward to the snow.”

Vicky turned into the driveway of light blue duplex. It branched off on either side with sidewalks that lead to the front doors. She kept to the left-hand side and took out a key to unlock its door. After some jiggling, she shuffled across the entry rug and left the door open for the three to follow through.

The house opened up for them, the living room to their left and the kitchen to their right. Each room was already furnished with generic display pieces. Enough seating for a family, both in the living and dining areas. A hallway bisected the areas, leading to doors propped open. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a nook for the washer and dryer.

They stopped for a moment in the entryway. Vicky took her coat off and draped it on a hook next to the door.

“That sweater is so adorable.” Henry praised. “Did you knit that yourself?”

“Oh, thank you! I did. I never thought I would be one of those old ladies who knit, but look at this!” Vicky said.

“You did a wonderful job. I don’t see a flaw on it. How long had it been since you gave into knitting?”

“Ah, well, I’ll tell you about it while we look around.”

“Why don’t we sit down for a moment? It’s freezing out there. You should sit down and warm up for a moment. The boys can glance around a little while we talk. Right?” Henry looked up and winked at Connor.

“That sounds fine,” Connor said. “We can come back with any questions.”

“If that’s fine with you two,” Vicky said.

“Of course,” Connor added.

“We’ll be here if you need us.” Vicky wandered into the living room. Henry followed, sitting across from her in the display furniture.

“Come on, Dad. Let’s look around.” Connor jerked his head toward the main hallway. Hank raised an eyebrow and followed him past a bathroom and right into the larger of the two bedrooms. Connor went into a room a ways before he turned around to face Hank.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” Hank asked.

“I was able to scan the landlady. I didn’t expect her to come up in the system, but she’s not who she says she is. And she has a sizable criminal record.”

Hank looked at him for a moment. “You sure?”

“Positive. I checked multiple times. I can send her records to your phone.”

“Yeah, do that.” Hank pulled his phone from his back pocket. “I guess we can’t trust her after all.”

“My lie detector, so to speak.”

“You did good, Connor. Wouldn’t suspect a thing from her.” His phone vibrated as Connor’s message came through. He opened it and scanned the list. “Camille Douffet… and her French accent helps her blend right in here.” His face contorted with thought. “Wait, Connor. It seems to me she has a history of civil disobedience. The protesting type.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking she’s the _perfect_ person to trust.”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. Think about it. Protests are usually for freedoms and rights. With charges this distrastic, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was fighting for some minority group. We can’t be sure, but what if she would protest for your kind if she was younger? That’s why Mike trusts her. She fled here to escape her criminal record, but never stopped fighting.”

“Those are awfully large assumptions.”

“I know. But we can’t exactly walk up and ask, can we? The fact you have that information alone makes us suspicious.”

“I understand. Would it be worth the risk to trust her?”

The two of them stared at each other.

“Sticking Henry with her might have been the right idea,” Hank mused. “If she has any connection with the cops, he might be able to figure that out. And considering he’s a detective, he might get vibes from her one way or another. We’ll have to see what he says.”

“In the meanwhile, we could tour the apartment.”

“Might as well. But we can’t take too long. We’ve already been in here for a while. Can’t let her get suspicious.”

“Let’s go.” Connor started to walk toward the doorway, not stopping for a moment to look around.

“Hey, Connor?” Hank didn’t move out of the way, but looked him in the eyes. His face looked more sober than he’d been.

“What is it?”

“I’ll find us a place to stay. Even if this doesn't work out. Don't worry.”

“I know you will, Dad.”

Hank nodded, slowly, not taking his eyes off Connor. “Yeah.” He suddenly turned around, leaving for the bedroom across the hall. “That’ll be _my_ room, so don’t get any bright ideas,” he said a little too loudly. He sauntered through the other door. “You can have this one.”

“Wow, thanks, Dad,” Connor said, his voice tinted with sarcasm.

They didn’t linger long in any given room—Hank opened with closet doors half to look, half to play the part.

“Not a bad place,” he said, softer. “If we can trust the old broad, that is.”

Connor didn’t bother to look as he followed Hank. Instead he scanned the air; no mold, smoke residue, or asbestos detected. It seemed safe for a human like Hank. There were some creeks in the floors, places worn with past occupants. The carpet underfoot had traces of pet dander. A good sign for Sumo.

He barely noticed Hank leave the room, wrapped up in his own inspection. He trailed behind, reemerging into the open living room. Henry and Vicky were still in conversation, not seeming to notice their return.

“...And I never saw her again. It was the strangest thing,” Vicky was saying.

“We’re ready for the grand tour,” Hank interrupted, glancing between the two of them. “It’s a pretty nice place you got here.”

“Oh, thank you. It’s not often I have trouble with my tenants. Perks of being a little old lady, I suppose.” She stood, her knees popping on the way up. Henry hurried over to help her, but she straightened herself out before he could act. “I hope you saw the door to the attic at the end of the hallway there. It doesn’t have one of those fancy ladders, so you have to bring one out from the garage.”

“I bet Connor’s looking forward to exploring up there, aren’tcha?” Hank grinned at Connor. Vicky and Henry stared blankly at them for answers. Connor just nodded and let out a forced laugh. He’d been it enough attics for one lifetime.

“Good one, Dad.”

Vicky frowned as she shook off her confusion. “There’s a crawl space attached to the garage, in case you need it. Likes to flood more than anything. But it’s there.” She lead them into the kitchen, letting it speak for itself. It had the same homey feel as the rest of the apartment; wood cabinets and countertops gave it a warm feel. The appliances, all stainless steel, somewhat contradicted the coziness. “The appliances come with, but you have to maintain them. I split the cost if we ever have to replace them.”

Henry wandered and peeked his head into the garage. It was one-car, scattered with rusty tools and an old wood ladder. Oil stained the concrete floors.

“That’s about it,” Vicky said. “The furnace and water heater are in the crawlspace. You’re free to inspect anything else you’d like. But I’m going to sit down. Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I have one,” Hank said. “What’s your policy on dogs?”

“I allow pets. I trust in people to clean up their messes. And if they don’t, it comes out of their deposit.” Her voice hardened a little with her last sentence.

“Fair enough.”

The men continued to examine the appliances. Hank watched out of the corner of his eye as Vicky returned to her chair in the living room. Henry glanced around the kitchen, opened, doors, and turned knobs. Connor continued to analyze the area, seemingly staring into space.

After a little stalling, Hank called over to Henry. “Let’s look at the crawl space.” Henry nodded, not far behind him as he left through the garage door. Connor stayed behind, poking around the kitchen himself.

They found a door off the back of the garage and slipped through. A small, unfinished room held the humming appliances. They each took to one to examine.

“What do you think of her, Henry?” Hank asked.

“I love her. She’s a sweet old lady. That feisty type. Likes cats.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve become a cat person.”

“If you bothered to visit me at my house, you would’ve met Friday. But no, I’m still neutral on the whole cats-versus-dog ordeal.”

“Uh-huh. But seriously. Did you learn anything important from your little chat session?”

“Not really. Her topics of conversation where pretty superficial. It’s too early to tell yet whether that’s just her or if she’s hiding something.”

“Oh, she’s hiding something alright. We just need to figure out how bad.” Hank gave the side of the water heater a slap. “I have no idea how. Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

“I’m guessing Connor caught something? God, an android like him would be so helpful with investigations. I’m jealous.”

“Too bad not everyone thought that way. Come on, he’s probably got this whole place scanned for problems already.”

“You better catch me up after this.”

Hank ignored him and glanced at the furnace before making his way back to the kitchen. Henry wasn’t far behind. Connor broke out of his concentration as they came in.

“Find anything?” Hank asked.

“Everything seems to be safe and functional,” Connor assured.

“Great. Same on our end.”

“You boys should sit down,” Vicky said, her voice like cold honey. What Connor missed was the perfect voice of a school teacher who was not mad at her students, but very disappointed. The words sent chills down Hank and Henry’s spines. The fear of their elementary school days reentered their minds.

Connor, unintimidated, was the first to sit down on the couch across from her. Hank and Henry hesitantly followed, Vicky’s stare not letting off. They shuffled in their seats, unable to get comfortable.

“Let’s talk. I’m not as deaf as my old age makes me seem. I could hear you whispering in the bedroom. I know you’re hiding something. If I’m going to let you rent this apartment, we’re going to have to trust each other. The way you’re acting, I can’t trust you boys. Not even you, Henry.”

Henry visibly frowned. Both Hank and Connor grew deadpan. A clock ticked the silent seconds by.

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say you know a little more about me than what I’ve shared. I don’t blame you for doing your research if you have. It’s a dangerous world out there.”

“I know about your American identity,” Connor piped up. “It appears you were once a woman named Camille Douffet.”

“Connor, for fuck’s sake, why can’t you keep your mouth shut?” Hank asked.

“If we’re going to be honest, we’re all going to be honest,” Connor replied.

“See, he’s learning, Hank.” Henry smiled, recognizing his own words.

“How did you come across this information?” Vicky asked, not breaking her composure.

“Hank and I were detectives in Detroit. Because of this, I have access to the criminal records of the citizens of the United States. I have analyzed everyone we’ve interacted with in Canada, but you’re the one person besides Henry who’s returned with any results.”

“I’m a detective, too,” Henry admitted.

“We chose not to disclose this information because of the risky nature of harboring androids. Many like you would likely not help us because of our past in law enforcement. But I assure you, Miss Bellafonte, we have left that life behind us. Hank and I are fugitives of the law ourselves.”

“How do I know I can believe you’re not simply undercover?” Vicky asked, cocking her head.

“I have no evidence besides my own recorded memory. If you wish to have another android probe it, I would allow it.”

“Connor, you’re not doing that. Listen, lady, if you’re not going to trust us, then we’re just going to leave and find another place to stay,” Hank said.

“No, no, I believe him,” Vicky said. “If you really had a hit on me, well, nothing would’ve stopped you from carrying it out now. You have enough evidence for a warrant, assuming you wanted one for some ludicrous reason. My past is behind me, just as you say yours is.

“No, I suppose that isn’t right, either. The fact I’m choosing to harbor illegal androids means I haven’t changed at all. But the idea of an illegal person is asinine. Red blood or blue.” She chuckled. “Remember that old phrase ‘we all bleed red?” Isn’t that ironic now?”

“So were we correct in assuming your charges resulted from protests?” Hank asked.

“Oh, yes. I… I was in a lot of protests in my day. A lot of counter protests, too. I wish I could say I was in something like Selma or Stonewall. I was born a little late for things like that. But I dedicated my life to fighting for the environment. We recognized how the rich was profiting of off destroying the world for the rest of us long before the media caught wind of ‘global warming.’

“We never got anywhere. We fought for years. Tried to help those caught in natural disasters, but even then, there wasn’t much help we could give. Some of my friends even went as far as to give their lives.

“I’m lucky, I suppose. I’m the last of my friends to still be alive. I had to take the coward's way out and move here. But I’m alive.”

“I’m sorry for making you relive your past like that. But we needed to know. I dunno if you could still trust us after…” Hank trailed off.

“We have no choice but to trust each other. We’re keeping each other’s secrets now. I will let you live here. Not free of charge, mind you. But I will do whatever I can to make sure you will be safe here. The other tenants don’t know, so you will have to mind yourselves around them. Know your true identity will not pass my lips.”

“We won’t talk, either. You have my word.”

“If you need time to decide, I understand. I’ll keep it open for you.”

“Actually,” Hank paused a moment and looked at Connor. “If you don’t have any objections, I think this is the best place we’re gonna find. Let’s get it over with.”

“I agree. I think it’s the smartest course of action,” Connor said.

“Then let’s go back to my office and get a lease for you to sign.” Vicky stood up. The other barely reacted before she was to the front door pulling on her coat. “Come on, the sooner we get out of the cold the better.” They had to pull on their own jackets out the door. As quickly as Vicky left, she stopped, nearly getting run into by her companions.

“Oh, not again.” Vicky shuffled forward to the corner of the sidewalk. A tiny meow came from in front of her. The men glanced around his shoulder to see a dark, spotted cat curled up on the corner.

“ _Oh, look at you_ ,” Henry cooed. The cat meowed at him.

Vicky picked it up and held it out toward them. “If one of you wants to hang onto her, I’m going to find my no-good tenant who let her out again.”

Henry immediately took her. “What’s her name?”

“Kit. You just all wait here. I’ll just be a second.” She made her way to the sidewalk and headed toward the next building. “ _Roy Brodeur!_ ” She yelled. “ _Get out here!_ ”

Kit purred in Henry’s arms. He scratched the top of her head. The other two gawked at their marching landlady. The front door of the adjacent building opened.

“What is it?” A man asked back in a similar French accent. He was young, looking like he was barely in his twenties. His long, brown hair was braided down his side.

“You let your cat out again.”

“She’s not my cat.”

“You still let her out. Get your ass over here.”

The man named Roy shook his head and slammed the door behind him. He shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as he rushed to meet her.

“Who are these guys?” he asked, looking up at the group.

“Your new neighbors. Well, the two not holding your cat are.”

Roy glanced between the three of them as he approached. He reached out for the cat, and Henry reluctantly handed her over.

“I’m Hank. This is my son, Connor, and my friend, Henry,” Hank explained.

“I’m Roy. Kit here really belongs to my roommate, Russ. She’s just giving me a hard time, aren’t you?” He struggled as Kit wriggled in his arms, trying to get down. “Where are you from? You sound American.”

“Detroit. Not too far.”

“And you came to Canada?” He asked, surprise in his voice.

“Do you know anything about Detroit?”

“Fair enough.” Kit started to meow as he unsuccessfully tried to clamp her down. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” He gave them a nod before turning back toward his apartment. They could hear him murmuring to Kit as he struggled back down the sidewalk.

“I told you, mind yourself around the neighbors,” Vicky said.

“He’s just a kid. I’m not worried about him,” Hank responded.

“Just be ready to answer their questions.” Vicky waved them forward to follow back to her office. “You boys moving in tonight?”

“Why do you think I brought Henry?” Hank asked.

“Let’s get it done quick,” Henry said. “I wanna take you out for a drink once we’re done. Celebrate.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hank grinned.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy this chapter came out long! But I'd like to thank my friend for letting me borrow some of her OCs this chapter! They will return, and there will be one more. Vicky and Roy are both courtesy of Blue (inspiringraisin on Tumblr and Blueleaf on Charahub). Check out her stuff. I'll continue to attribute her characters as they appear. She's been a huge influence on this fic from the start with so she's virtually a coauthor. Kudos to her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Hank and Connor get a break for the evening. One has a better time than the other. Sumo makes some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Hank. Have some people yelling at you! It's for your own good, I promise.

Connor was alone.

Bags were strewn around the apartment, half unpacked. The other half  manifested in objects scattered around the various tabletops, as well as the piles of clothes in Hank’s room. Connor had already put away the extra pair of pants and extra t-shirts Hank loaned him. 

His only companion was Sumo, who had been sniffing all over the place since they arrived. Connor knew what he smelled: previous tenants, previous pets, and food crumbs lodged in the carpet. 

Hank had already warned against him organizing things; he claimed he knew exactly where he wanted everything. There was only one thing Connor could do: update his journal. He sat there, entirely motionless, lost track of time. Something nudged his hands. He blinked open his eyes. Sumo sat next to him, staring at him with his big, brown eyes. 

“Why don’t I take you on a walk?” Connor asked him. Sumo’s tail immediately started to wag. Connor grabbed his leash, which had been hung up on the coat rack next to the door. Even after Connor hooked it onto his collar, Sumo made his way half out the door the moment it was opened.

Even with his enthusiasm, Sumo stopped in his tracks almost immediately. He sniffed the spot where Kit had been laying earlier. He refused to budge as Connor tried to pull him along. 

The door on the other side of the house opened. A little girl slipped out, leaving the door open behind her. Connor recognized her as Alice. The door swung open a little farther as another head peaked out. It was Kara.

“Alice, come back inside!” she called after her. Alice trotted up to Connor, ignoring her. 

“What’s your dog’s name?” Alice asked, her face bright with curiosity.

“Sumo.” 

Alice pulled Sumo’s attention from the cat spot. He looked up to her, his tail wagging fast enough to hit Connor’s legs. 

“Can I pet him?”

“Sure.”

Alice hesitated, realizing how big Sumo was. She gently held her hand toward him, and he sniffed her hand. She let out a giggle. She reached up and ran her hand over his head, her face shining with wonder. 

Connor glanced up to where Kara was watching. Her attention was glued on him, sharply watching his movements. She looked down at Alice as he caught her eye.

“Where’s your dad?” Alice asked.

“He’s out with a friend,” Connor explained.

“Like a playdate?”

“Like an adult playdate.” Connor nodded. 

“Can I play with you and Sumo?”

“It’s too late,” Kara said behind them. “It’s getting dark, Alice.” 

“But…”

“Come on, honey. We can play something inside.”

“...Okay.” Alice gave Sumo one last touch and looked up at Connor. Then, she turned around and went back to where Kara waited. Kara kept her eye on Connor as the two of them slipped back into the house. 

Connor contemplated saying something as Kara turned her back on him, but he could process nothing. He simply waved to Alice before she disappeared into the house, earning a quick wave back. He turned to face the street, pulling Sumo with renewed excitement. 

The sun lazed in the horizon and threatened to set. The loom of November bared down on it. The evening had just begun, but the chill of night creeped its way across the air nonetheless. Connor still had daylight ahead of him, enough to make his newfound rounds down the winding road of apartments. 

The pattern of duplexes stretched into a cul-de-sac at the end of the street. It was long enough to be a trek for Sumo; he panted with effort as they started to round the bend. The twilight was silent, with the bird calls diminishing with every minute that passed. Not many neighbors were out tonight. Sumo looked expectantly at some houses, as if expecting a new friend to turn the corner. Connor saw nothing other than the occasional squirrel.

The sun had set fully by the time they rounded back around, although between the lingering day and the streetlights, they could still see. Connor spotted a light on in one of the garages. He recognized it as their next door neighbors, the house were the cat and the boy lived. It was the opposite garage from the half Roy had come out of. He curiously approached it. 

He glanced into the garage. There was a figure barely visible behind the open hood of a car, with only a mess of blond hair peeking out above it. The clank of metal against metal echoed out of the garage and into the street. Connor hovered around the garage door.

“Hello?” he called in. The noises stopped. He caught hints of movement behind the car. A few pregnant seconds passed before the figure emerged. They wore overalls over a white tank top, all of which was stained with smudges of old grease. Their straw hair was styled up in a fohawk.

“Hi. I’m Connor. I’m your new neighbor.” Connor smiled in their direction. 

“Hey. I’m Ollie.” They gave him a short smile back. “I thought we already met our new neighbors this morning.”

“Ah, yeah, it’s funny. My father and I moved into the west side of the vacant duplex. We were referred here from the same guy as the other new tenants. I just met them.” 

“The ones with the little girl? They’re cute.”

“She’s a nice little girl.” Connor glanced down at Sumo as he came up to Ollie to sniff them. He nearly jerked him back before Ollie patted his head. They turned into the garage. 

_ “Grace, get out here! There’s a dog!” _ they called.

There was the sound of footsteps, and the door to the house swung open. “Did you say dog?” An equally blonde but tanner girl walked out, her hair also cut short, fluffed around her head. She couldn’t hide her disappointment when she saw a stranger. 

“Who’s this?” she asked.

“Connor. The dog owner,” Ollie said. 

“More neighbors?” 

“More neighbors.”

Grace made her way to the driveway, and a smile flashed on her face as she saw Sumo. “Can I pet him?” 

“Go ahead,” Connor said. Grace immediately kneeled down to give him attention.

“Are you siblings?” Connor asked.

“Oh, no, we wish,” Grace said from behind the dog. “You don’t know how many times we’ve been asked if we’re sisters. We’re just lucky friends. We’ve been like this since primary school.” 

“What do you do?” 

“Ollie over there is a mechanic, obviously. They keep bringing their pet projects home.” She looked up to give Ollie a half-hearted dirty eye. “I work down at the library. Do you have a job here yet?”

Connor stiffened. “No, I don’t.”

“If you need one, we have an opening. It doesn’t pay the best, but we’re kind of desperate.”

“Grace, you can’t go advertizing that page job to any stranger who walks by,” Ollie said. 

“He’s not a stranger. His name is Connor.”

“Sure.” Ollie rolled their eyes. 

“What’s your dog’s name?” Grace asked.

“Sumo.”

“Okay, this is Connor and his dog, Sumo.” Grace stood up, one hand primed for a hand shake and one hand still on the dog. Connor took it. “We’re officially neighbors.”

“Ignore her,” Ollie told Connor. “She gets excited around dogs. You’ll have to come by another time and introduce your father.”

“I’ll be sure to bring Sumo along again.” 

“Good,” Grace said.

“We take him on walks every night. At least until it snows.”

“That’s so good. Isn’t it, Sumo?” Grace earned a tail wag.

“We’ll get you finish your walk,” Ollie said, side-eyeing at Grace. 

“Have a good night, you two,” Grace said, looking directly at Sumo.

“Good night.” Connor waved as he dragged Sumo from the promise of more petting.

\---

 

Henry had brought Hank to his own bar of choice—The Honeybee. Familiar faces waved at him. An eyebrow or two raised at the presence of Hank, all of which he ignored. 

“You popular here? And you never brought me?” Hank asked.

“I’ve only gone for the last few years. I’ve had a life while you were gone, you know,” Henry said.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hank teased.

“Yeah, well, I’m just hoping I won’t have to introduce my unemployed ex-boyfriend to anyone.” Henry went on autopilot to a two-seated table. Hank figured that was his spot as he slipped comfortably into one of the chairs.

“See if I care.” Hank joined him on the opposite side of the table. “It’s not like I’m gonna be anyone’s sugar daddy.”

Hank’s attention was caught by a waiter making a beeline—shaking his head at the pun—to their table. “What can I get you two?” he asked, looking at Henry.

“Cosmopolitans were always your favorite,” Henry said, grinning at Hank. “One for him. I'll take a rum and coke.”

“Coming right up,” the waiter said as he hurried off.

“You know how long it’s been since I’ve had one of those?”

“I’m starting to think  _ you _ forgot how to have fun.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“We can fix that. It’s happy hour.”

“Sure is a happy hour for me,” Hank grinned.

Henry chuckled and pushed up his glasses. “So, catch me up. How long have you known Connor now?”

Hank looked to the side as he thought. He counted on his fingers. “It’s been… about two weeks now.”

“ _ Two weeks? _ Jesus, Hank. You’ve been in Canada half the time you’ve known him.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

“How did  _ that  _ happen?”

“He saved my life. And spared a few.”

“Saved your life? What the hell have you been up to?”

The waiter returned with their drinks. He received a nod and a thank you as each of them claimed their drinks. 

“You know. The usual. Detective work.” Hank took a long sip of the cosmopolitan. “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Henry smirked. “You Americans. You’re worse than your movies.”

“I don’t know how you Canadians don’t die of boredom up here.”

“We have to deal with the problems you drag across the border.”

“You should talk.”

“Hey, I thought we crossed that bridge.”

“Maybe  _ you  _ have.”

“Really, though. I shouldn’t be surprised you got yourself into trouble. You gonna wait to get drunk before you give me the details?”

“Well, the boy broke the rules. Like us, ‘cept androids aren’t supposed to be able to do that. This one asshole told him he’d only give us information if Connor killed one of his androids.”

“What kind of sick fuck?”

“Ever heard of Elijah Kamski?”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. And Connor wouldn’t do it. Went against his programming. Don’t know how he did it. But that’s when I knew there was something about him. He deserved the sort of compassion he figured out how to give.”

“And you adopted him.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Cover, Henry.” He made eye contact with their waiter a few tables down and waved him over for another round. 

“ _ Uh-huh _ .” Henry knocked back the rest of his drink as the waiter made her way back to their table.

“What about you?” Hank asked as he palmed his new glass. “You haven’t exactly been talkative about your life.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Friday’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to me.”

“No big busts?”

“I guess we solved one big homicide. Some guy on a local CraigsList-like website disappeared trying to sell his old TV. It was on the news for weeks. The website imploded. A big mess. I was there when he caught the guy!”

“You found him?”

“Nah, some tech guys tracked him down. He hacked a taxi to do his dirty work. I barely did anything. But I was on the news!”

“Still have that on DVR?”

“Of course I do.” Henry smirked. “And I  _ will  _ show you eventually.”

“Remind me not to watch basketball at your place.”

“It’s  _ hockey _ , Hank. Get with the country.”

“Fuckin’ Canadians and your hockey.”

“Hey, it’s not my thing, but you have to let the Gears go.” Henry took a swing. “What else are you planning on doing up here, anyway? You’ve had time to think about it by now.”

Hank shrugged. “I need to help Connor get a job first. Try to establish a life here. Him looking like a young man, not working is suspicious. I can get away with being retired. I’m not the person to worry about, anyway.”

“So, you get Connor a job. He settles in. Makes some friends. Finds some hobbies, or whatever androids do. What are  _ you  _ gonna do?”

Hank absentmindedly stirred his drink with his pinkie. “Not cause trouble, I suppose.” 

“ _ You _ ? Please.”

“I haven’t exactly been my top priority, Henry. I’m happy as long as we don’t get busted.”

“Is happy the right word?”

“Content, whatever. Doesn’t matter. I’m getting old. Connor can take care of me when I get gross and incompetent, and that’s that.”

Hank waved at the waiter. He looked at Henry, but he shook his head. He turned back for a minute, and quickly gave Hank another glass.

“Those are gonna catch up with you, Hank.”

“I’m fine. I’ve handled stronger.” 

Henry didn't respond at first. His eyes counted the empty glasses on the table. “Hank, are you an alcoholic?”

“Me, an alcoholic? You know how quick I would’ve been fired if I was?”

“I’m serious.” He turned his head to look Hank dead in the eye. “I could tell there was something off about you. Now I realize I was just ignoring the booze on your breath.” 

“You’re bluffing. I was dead sober when we got those visas.”

“I could smell it through the phone.”

“Oh, shut up. You're just trying to start something, aren't you? Just because you think you're all charming doesn't mean you can try to weasel your way into my business.”

“Your business is my business. You live here now. Remember when you used to keep me up with your life? Send me texts once in a while? What happened to that?”

“People grow apart, Henry. Learn to take a hint.”

Henry shook his head. “We both know it’s not that simple.”

Hank stared at his drink.

“You need to stop ignoring your past, Hank. Just because you had to leave it doesn’t mean you have to run from it.”

“I left his grave, Henry. Do you have any fucking idea how that felt?” Hank shook his head. “You don’t understand a goddamn thing. Stop pretending like you do.” 

Henry’s eyes widened. His gaze drifted to his own empty glass; his face deflated with the tone in his voice.

“I’m sorry. I just want… I wanted to help,” he said.

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a shit job. If you’re not gonna buy me another drink, I’m going home.”

“I’ll call you a taxi.” 

“I can get my own damn taxi.” Hank shot up out of his chair. He grabbed the edge of the table as his legs wobbled. “ _ Shit _ ,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sit down, Hank. You’re gonna fall and crack your skull open.”

Hank sat. He shook his head, blinking to focus his eyes. Henry dialed his phone, and Hank said nothing more.

 

\---

 

When Connor returned to the apartment, there was a taxi in the driveway. He lingered, on alert, as he scanned it for its inhabitants. His body relaxed as he recognized their faces: Hank and Henry.

Hank stumbled out of the taxi first, just sober enough to make his way to the front door. He went into the house without saying a word, slamming the door behind him. Connor made his way to the other occupant, who had been intently watching him leave. He saw Connor out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, Connor. Hi.”

At the sound of his voice, Sumo’s ears perked forward. Suddenly, he tugged on his leash. Connor was pulled forward as he rushed to Henry and sniffed him. His tail was a blur, and he whined as he jumped up, nearly pinning Henry to the taxi.

“Hey, hey boy.” Henry took Sumo behind the ears and scratched him. “You still remember me?” 

Sumo jumped back down on his four paws, but stopped whimpering as he gave into the ear scratches. Henry kneeled down to his level.

“Poor thing hasn’t seen me in about four years. Probably thought I was dead. Didn’t you, Sumo?” As if he understood, Sumo licked him on the face. Henry smushed his face and stood up to face Connor. 

“I’m sorry I brought your dad back hammered. I didn’t realize.”

“Realize what?” Connor asked.

“His drinking problem. I should’ve known he resorted to something like that. How long has he been like this?”

“I met him at a bar. He wouldn’t answer his phone, and he was needed at a homicide investigation.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s… not good. That’s not good.” Henry stared out into the dim neighborhood as he stroked Sumo. “We need to talk, Connor. Not now. But he needs help.”

Connor stared at him.

“You probably don’t know any better, do you? Being drunk has to seem like a character trait to you.”

“I find it hard to imagine him otherwise.”

“Hm. That’s a shame.”

“If you give me your phone number, I can talk to you any time. I have built in calling and texting capabilities.”

“You sure are something else, aren’t you? I can tell why Hank loves you.” Henry took out a piece of paper and a pen from his jacket pocket and wrote down his number. “Maybe one day we can get to know each other better.” He handed the paper over. Near instantaneously, his phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket. “‘This is Connor.’ Well, god damn. I guess we’ll keep in touch.” 

Henry turned back toward the taxi, and Connor could see the alcohol infused in his movement. He held the door open for just a moment. “Take care, Connor.” He let the door slide closed. The taxi rumbled to life and backed itself out of the driveway.

Sumo lingered as Connor starred to lead him to the house. He watched the taxi disappear around the bend before he followed him through the door. The lights were on, and Hank’s bedroom door was wide open. 

Connor took Sumo off his leash and went to look inside. On the bed, Hank lie on a heap of unpacked clothes. Sumo jumped on the bed next to him, only briefly interrupting his subtle snoring. Connor slowly shut the door, leaving him in the darkness of his alcoholic coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! As an FYI, school has started for me, so updates will be slower from now on. But they will keep coming! I actually have made significant progress on Chapter 8 and have Chapter 9 finished(!), so those will hopefully come out faster than this one. Thanks to everyone for being patient. Grace is also a character who belongs to my friend Blue, so yay her!
> 
> I was randomly inspired earlier this week and wrote a one-shot. It's canon within this universe, so check it out! 
> 
> Also, my friend send me a meme that reminded me of the fic, so i made a little edit... https://tinyurl.com/y9zagqgc  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor go shopping.

“Connor, we’re going shopping.”

Connor looked up as Hank closed his bedroom door. His hair stuck out in places, and bags drooped under his eyes. He wore his “Grumpy Dad” shirt, freshly ironed. Sumo followed not far behind him and stretched halfway out the hallway.

“Shopping?” Connor asked.

“Yeah. We need to get you out of that sweaty hoodie. We’re leaving as soon as coffee’s ready.”

Hank’s eyes were nearly bloodshot. His complexion deceived his usual pace into the kitchen. He was hungover. The coffee maker started to rumble to life under his touch. He wandered off into the bathroom.

“Why don’t you let Sumo out?” he called through the bathroom door.

“Already ahead of you.” Connor had the leash in-hand. Sumo perked up and quickly came up to the leash-bearer. Connor gave him a scratch on the head as he roped him up and took him out the front door.

By the time Connor returned, Hank was pouring himself a cup of coffee by the counter. His hair had been tamed, and his eyes opened a little wider at the promise of caffeine. 

“Do you want—oh, god, I keep forgetting you can’t drink shit.” Hank grabbed a thermos and poured the rest of the pot in it. “I don’t envy you.” 

“I suppose I don’t know what I’m missing.”

“You sure don’t.” Hank downed the coffee in his mug. “Come on, let’s go.”

He asked Connor to find the nearest mall as they made their way out of the neighborhood. Connor found one one nearby: the Eaton Center. He gave Hank a rundown of the route, knowing he’d have to be reminded of it minutes later. And he did: the both of them narrowly missed turns, and they went around the block once to get in the right lane. 

“The roads make more sense in Detroit,” Hank growled under his breath. 

They made it to the mall not long later; Hank parked a distance from a clothing store. He sighed as he measured the distance between his car and the doors. Connor waltzed past him with his regular gumption, forcing Hank to pick up his pace.

“For the record, you’re getting a job,” Hank said as he caught up.

“I assumed as much.”

“Henry will be a reference for you. But otherwise, you’re pretty much on your own.”

“I’m sure I can manage. How hard can it be?”

“You’ll see.” Hank smirked. “You need to get some nicer clothes before you find out.”

They walked into what was a generic clothing store. Some modern styles were draped on mannequins, while simple clothes were laid out on tables. Hank nodded Connor toward the men’s area. He grabbed a handful of white t-shirts off a table and tossed them at Connor. Connor caught them just in time, keeping them folded nicely.

“Try these on,” Hank told him. “We need to know what size you are. Probably on the smaller side. Make you androids so goddamn skinny.” He moved over to a table of jeans. “You’re probably around Henry’s size.” He picked a couple pairs and tossed them at him. Connor snatched them less gracefully, and juggled the clothes around in his arms to balance them. 

“Looks like fitting rooms are thataway.” Hank pointed toward a sign hung from the ceiling. “Knock yourself out.”

  
\---  
  


Hours later, the two of them could be spotted in the food court. Bags upon bags wrapped around Connor’s arms, and Hank was completely invested in a cheeseburger. 

“You know you can set those down. You look like a pack mule.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable this way.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t look it. Shopping’s exhausting.”

Connor took his cue and nestled the bags in the empty chairs around them. He glanced around the food court. Families scattered across the tables laughed among each other as they ate. One table full of children shared a large pile of fries; a smaller family leaned back in their chairs and chatted. 

“Is shopping some kind of family bonding activity?” Connor asked.

“You could say that,” Hank said, mouth still half full of food. He took a sip of his soda. “Some like it better than others. But it’s something to do when it’s this cold out.” 

“I see.” 

“Perfect opportunity to wear this.” Hank tapped his Grump Dad shirt. “Blend right in.”

“Right.”

Hank balled up his food wrappers and dropped them on the tray. “Well, we better get going. Wanna get everything done today if we can.”

“What else do we have to buy?”

“Maybe we can find summer shit on clearance.” Hank dumped his trash a few feet to the side. “Come on, let me take some of those bags. You’ll drain your battery.”

“My battery still has—”

“I know, it was a joke, asshole.” Hank rolled his eyes, but still smiled at Connor as he hefted half of the bags. “Let’s go.” 

The two of them rejoined the masses of people passing storefront and storefront. They looked around, slightly lost and slightly mesmerized by the lights people passed by. 

“You’ve never been in a mall like this, have you?” Hank asked.

“Never.”

They reached an intersection of paths. Seating was placed around the round, open area. TVs shone overhead, their audio barely comprehensible from beyond the reaches of the wall. Movement caught Hank's attention, and he stopped. He froze as he processed the image on the screen.

The news portrayed scenes of the android revolution raging on. They cut to an android — an android who looked like Connor. His jacket was white, the collar propped up to cover his neck. His face was lifeless, his gray eyes glazed over. Hank caught catches of words from the announcers. 

“They stole your fucking face,” Hank growled. Connor looked at him and followed his line of sight to the screen above. He studied it for a moment with deep, brown eyes. 

“That's not my face,” he said simply.

“What? The fuck you talking about? That fucker looks identical to you.”

“He shares my visage, yes. But my appearance legally belongs to CyberLife. It's theirs to use as they please.”

“So they just slapped your face on your replacement?”

“Perhaps they were in a hurry. There is a revolution, after all.”

“And this doesn't bother you?”

“I've always been aware that there are many of my replacements that share my appearance. This is likely an upgraded version of the RK series that is more resistant to deviancy. It's the same thing. Just as I'm sure the Connors that came before me felt that same way.”

“Don't… don't talk like that. Jesus.” Hank cringed. “I can’t wrap my head around it and I don't wanna.”

“The people were designed me were good people. They put a lot of thought into every aspect of how I present to the world. I trust their decisions.”

“You saying that for a fact, or were you just told that?”

“I had had extensive communication with my team before I was sent to join the police force. I  _ am _ a prototype. I was tested many times before they were confident to send me out in the field. They're the people who named me.”

“They grew attached to you, huh?”

“Very much so.”

“Seems like that's a talent of yours.”

“It’s what I was designed to do.”

“Do us all a favor and start talking like a real boy, huh? You're gonna blow your cover. ...Creeps me out.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I'm not always in tune with the nuances of human comfort.” 

“...‘sall right.” Hank watched the news for a moment longer. The camera was focused on the CyberLife tower. “You ever miss them? Your team?”

“I do often wonder about them. I have no form of communication with them. They always seemed worried about me. I wish they knew I was okay.”

Hank glanced down and studied the people bustling through the mall. The crowded closed near seamlessly through the corridors of shops, only pausing to turn into one. A young girl sat on her father's shoulders, towering above the mass of people.

“You're okay. But did those people program you how to have fun?”

“Fun?”

“C'mon. We've been in enough stuffy clothing stores.” Hank suddenly set off out of the court. He made a beeline for a pillar, which bared maps on its three sides. His index finger traced the list of names. It stopped as he pinpointed what he was looking for. He gave the screen a swift tap, and more information displayed itself over the map. He nodded, and as quickly as he started, waved to Connor to follow him. 

Connor seamlessly kept up with him, weaving through the oncoming traffic. Hank briskly made his way across the mall, a unable to hide a smile on his face. When he reached the end of his journey, he stood triumphantly in front of the storefront. Connor caught up with him seconds later. The colorful sign up top made one thing obvious:

“A toy store?” Connor asked. 

“Yep. Follow me.” 

As Hank crossed the threshold of the store, a chorus of electronic toys were there to great him. Connor was mesmerized as they passed through; not only did he hear their greetings, he could feel their presence. The very presence of so many wireless signals was almost overwhelming to his system. 

None of them wore CyberLife's labels, but Connor recognized they had been created by one of its subsidiaries. They were simple enough to evade the android regulations. They stared at him, equally aware of him. Lifelike baby dolls that cooed and cried. Miniature dogs whose large eyes betrayed their inspiration. Cats who purred, and purred, and purred, and purred. They all knew his name. 

“Connor, come on. We're not looking at the iDogs. We have a real one at home.” Hank was unfazed by the congestion, already halfway across the store. Connor blinked and turned off his wireless communications.

“I'm coming.”

In the back corner of the store lived the inanimate toys. Stuffed animals, building blocks, and doll-sized furniture were all scattered around the shelves. Hank held a small, plastic dinosaur figurine in his hands.

“Look around. See if anything interests ya.” Hank set the triceratops back on its shelf. “This is the kinda stuff I grew up with as a kid. Not to act sound some sort of dipshit hipster or anything. You never grow out of this stuff. Not like you do with planned obsolescence over there.” 

Connor took a moment to inventory what surrounded him. He'd never seen most of it, but he was programed to recognize it all. He went up and picked up a plastic cow next to the dinosaur. His examination told him it was made of polypropylene, as well as the other animals on the rack. The stuffed animals, made out of equally wide array of animals, were predominately polyester. Boxes of building blocks lit up the shelves with pictures of bright buildings, made of everything from wood to acrylonitrile butadiene styrene. 

One shelf held a number of puzzles. There were wooden cubes, intertwined metal shapes, and flashcards of logic puzzles. Connor picked up a wooden cube, and in unraveled in his hands. It was divided into smaller cubes strung together on different sides, each of which could turn at different angles. 

He tried putting it back the way it was, but one cube stuck out with no way to fit. He pulled it back apart, turning the cubes side to side in multiple attempts to fold the cube back together. His programming offered him no answers. He went back and forth, folding and unfolding the cube in the number of ways. By the time Hank had finishing looking around, he found Connor twisting the final cube into place. Connor didn't realize he was smiling.

“Should've figured you'd like puzzles.” Hank was smiling as well. “Lemme buy you some.” Just to the left, there was a box set of small metal puzzles. Hank reached around Connor and grabbed it. “This'll keep you busy for a while.”

“Dad, I don't think I understand. Why do you want to buy me something from here?”

“Because it's fun, asshole. I don't think you know what that means yet.”

“I know what ‘fun’ means.”

“Denotatively only, Connor. You learn best by doing.” Hank waved him toward the checkout. 

“Wait. There's one other thing.” Connor looked back to where he had seen something earlier. Hank watched as he approached a pile of stuffed animals and took out a small Saint Bernard hidden in the stack. He tucked it under his arm and returned to Hank by the register.

“That's cute,” Hank observed. “Getting that for Sumo?”

“I think Sumo would sooner destroy it than appreciate it.”

“That’s for sure. I need to get him some new toys. Durable ones.” Hank dug his wallet out of his back pocket as he turned to the cashier. He pulled out enough cash to pay for Connor’s toys and the triceratops he had been holding earlier. He shoved the dinosaur in his jacket pocket and handed Connor the rest in a plastic bag. Connor peaked into the bag to admire his new puzzles as they left. 

“Didn't they teach you how to say ‘thank you’ in android detective school?”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Yeah.” Hank set his hand on Connor’s head and gave his hair a tussle. “You’ll fit in just fine with us humans soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay double chapter update!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank faces the inevitable.

“I’m back.” The door shut behind the words. Sumo perked up as he looked up to Hank. He got up and stretched, tail wagging, before running up to his owner. Hank smiled and kneeled down to let Sumo lick his face. The overenthusiastic dog nearly made him tumble backwards.

“Hey, Sumo, that’s enough.” He gently pushed him back enough to get his balance. “Good boy.” He grunted as he hefted himself back up. He gave Sumo a few pats on the head as he looked into the house. Connor was sitting on a couch, dressed nicer than he’d been since they’d crossed the border, playing with his coin.

“Wearing some of those clothes we got you?” Hank asked.

“I am. I have great news,” Connor perked up. 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I got a job. I interviewed at the library and they hired me on the spot.” Connor shined a rare smile. 

“The  _ library  _ hired you on the spot?”

“Well, not officially. They have to finish interviews and run the paperwork through the city. But they told me they’re definitely going to give me the job. I’ve learned I’m very good at putting books in order.”

Hank blinked. “Well… that’s great, Connor. Really. I’m proud of you. Not many people can say they’ve been hired on the spot.”

“You should talk. Valedictorian of your graduating class.” Henry entered from the kitchen, a deflated smile on his face. 

“Henry? The fuck are you doing here?”

“Why don’t you sit down, Hank?”

Hank narrowed his eyes. “What’s the deal?”

“Well, it happens that Connor and I have decided you need an intervention.”

“Oh, oh no. Oh no. Not you’re not. Not today.” Hank pushed past Henry, making a beeline for the garage door. “I told you to mind your fucking business.” 

“It wasn’t just me. Connor’s worried about you, too.” 

Hank brushed off his words. He was half way through the kitchen and looked down. Sumo was eating from his dog bowl, which had been strategically put in front of the door. Sumo looked up at him and wagged his tail softly.

“I’m sure he’s worried about you too. He can tell you’ve been in a funk.” Henry called out.

Hank started down at Sumo. His big, brown eyes were unignorable. 

“Jesus, fine. This is revenge for not bringing you to help Connor pick out clothes, isn’t it?” 

Henry wordlessly watched as Hank shuffled back toward the living room. He glanced at both of them, a scowl on his face. 

“Let’s get this fucking over with so you can leave me alone.”

“Sit down, Hank.”

Hank grumbled under his breath and took the seat farthest from Connor on the couch. Henry sat across from him. 

“Next time I’ll take you shopping, alright?” Hank said.

“Shut it. We’re being serious.”

“Go on then. I’m listening.” Hank crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“You’re not the person you used to be, Hank. You aren’t the funny, clever Lieutenant I used to know,” Henry started.

“Yes, I am. I haven’t changed, asshole.”

“Maybe you haven’t, but no one sees that part of you anymore. You’ve obviously fallen into some sort of depression since Cole died. You use alcohol to drown out your feelings, and you’re drowning out yourself. Hell, maybe it’s past that. Maybe you just can’t stop now, even if you wanted to.”

Hank stared at the wall behind Henry, silently frowning. 

“You know what? Connor deserves a better father than that.”

“I am a perfectly good father,” Hank barked. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I broke the law multiple times to drag his sorry ass to Canada. What else do you want from me?”

“And I thought you said the two of you being family was just a cover.”

Hank opened his mouth, but he stopped. He turned his head toward Connor, barely looking at him before his stare burned into the floor. 

“Like I said, it’s not just me. I guess I’ve made myself a little too welcome in your home. But Connor deserves to know—”

“Connor this, Connor that.” Hank interrupted. “Why don’t you let him talk for himself? He’s a grown fucking—well, he’s mature enough. Just because he’s a fucking android doesn’t mean he can’t think.”

“Okay. Connor, why don’t you tell him what you think?” Henry asked, the slightest of smiles hinted on his face. 

Connor pursed his lips as he worked over the words in his head.

“You know, when I first met you, I thought you were an irresponsible, asocial drunk. I couldn’t understand why you of all people were assigned the deviant case. I was told I would likely be partnered with the best detective in Detroit. It just wasn’t logical that the person I ended up with seemed to have none of the relevant qualities. 

“The more time I spent with you, the more I learned. Your intellect rivaled an android who was programmed to solve crimes. You knew how to talk to people, whether to get answers or to connect with them. People  _ liked  _ you. You have incredible empathy. In the little time I knew you, you went from hating androids to seeing that they were sentient beings with emotions and rights. Even I was too absorbed in my mission to let that cloud my vision.” 

Connor paused. Although Hank watched him with every word, he broke eye contact to look at his own lap.

“My mission was everything to me. It was perpetually at the front of my mind. Calculating, reporting. Nothing else mattered, not even my own life. Even though you were my partner, you would take me out of that sometimes. For a moment I’d think about humans or the city or anything other than deviants. When you took me across the border, everything inside me was screaming at me not to go with you. But I did. At the time I acted like I had no choice. I realize now, I did because I wanted to.”

“I don’t know what you were like when you were Cole’s father. I can piece together some of it. But I want to know for sure. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I want that man to be my father, too.”

Connor looked up to catch Hank’s eyes. His face was hard, his eyebrows knotted with concentration. He stared at Connor as he slowly stood up.

“C’mere, Connor.” His soft voice cracked in his mouth. Connor stood up after him, unsure. Hank stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Connor could barely move his own arms under the bear hug, but they found a way around his torso. 

“My boy,” Hank murmured, his temple pressed into the side of his head. They stood in the hug for a long time, Hank giving him one more squeeze before he let go. He looked Connor in the eyes.

“Alright, I’ll… I’ll give this AA thing a shot. I can’t guarantee it’ll do anything for me, but… I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks again for being patient with updates!
> 
> I have some exciting things in store. But what's a good fanfiction without some healthy character interaction mixed in? I can't pick who to focus on next, so I made a poll. Let me know which characters you'd like Connor and Hank to get to know better!  
> https://goo.gl/forms/uvTl72NX6aXbDvyo1


End file.
